


Cosmic Love

by xoxothesubwayfugitive



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drama & Romance, Dumbledore's Army, Eventual Romance, F/M, Forced Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, Malfoy Manor, Malfoy Manor is really its own character, Miscarriage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Second War with Voldemort, Snape is a friendly guy, does anyone else feel weird writing tags for things that won't happen for several chapters?, technically not underage but like...wizarding not underage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxothesubwayfugitive/pseuds/xoxothesubwayfugitive
Summary: Felicity Grey, Draco's classmate, fell away from her upbringing and into Dumbeldore's Army. At the Dark Lord's request, her Death Eater parents allow her to be removed into Lucius Malfoy's care at Malfoy Manor, and beyond that, to be a wife to him after Narcissa's death. A deeper look into the private life of the Malfoys, and how good can come from the worst. A difficult love story.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. Past Life

**Author's Note:**

> This story is extremely important to me – I'm not sure how much I can even emphasize it, but this is one of the first fics I ever conceived of and I've been adding pieces to it and revising it for 10 years. There is a finished version on fanfiction .net (same username), if you'd like to read ahead, HOWEVER, this version has been heavily revised and will feature different outcomes. I was 16 when I started writing this OC, so my writing style has improved, and I've also had a lot of mindset shifts about what is good and/or romantic content since then. As I'm sure most of you have been as well, I've been bored the past few months and rewriting this has been a great joy.
> 
> This is a slight AU but only in the timeline and events in the Malfoy household. It begins over Christmas of the 6th book, and Lucius is out of Azkaban at that point for our purposes. The War will also last many, many years.

"Felicity Grey is a good girl, Lucius. She’s just confused. You can imagine being at Hogwarts, with Harry Potter and all of his persuasive friends, when we are _so_ persecuted. Of course she lost her way. But we can bring her back. Her blood is too good. There are other Purebloods who we've lost, however I don't believe they were ever truly pure – they never believed in me. But Felicity's parents…they show us that it is worth finding her again."

Lucius swallowed all of this, and kept quiet. Felicity was worth saving – that was true – but how could it be that it must come through him? That she, as young as Draco, had to come live as his wife?

"My Lord…perhaps you'd rather –"

"Lucius, it is very bold of you to assume what I would rather do."

"I apologize."

"Say it."

"Perhaps…I'd be happy to keep her here, indefinitely. A prisoner. To teach her. But she's too young for me, it's not just to her –"

He was cut off again.

"There is no justice outside of me, Lucius. You have already failed me so miserably. Do you not see that this is your punishment as well? Felicity's blood is good – it pains me to say yours is as well. You let blood traitors outpace you in having children. How many Weasleys are there to one Malfoy?"

Lucius grimaced, but knew better than to speak again.

"If it offends you so deeply, you may wait until she's 17. Let her be your prisoner for that long. See if you can resist."

* * *

What a terrible idea it had been, going home for Christmas. Luna had invited her to her house, her extremely upside down world, but Felicity remained bound by some sense of familial obligation. After all, she had already spent the summer with the Lovegoods after standing on the opposite side of her parents at the Department of Mysteries, and her mother had written her a letter the month before when they escaped Azkaban, seemingly forgiving Felicity for her part in the battle. It had contained so many words of motherly affection, so many sweet promises that Felicity had never heard before. She missed her daughter, longed to hold her, regretted failing her. So Christmas wouldn't be so bad, Felicity had told herself. Two or three weeks of perhaps less bitter than unusual silence, a stilted Christmas celebration, holding her tongue while they spoke fondly, even lovingly, of Lord Voldemort. Oh, how bad could it be?

On the 27th of December, though, they insisted she go with them to a meeting with the Dark Lord. Her mother had a new set of robes for her, and the tight fist on her wand when she handed them to Felicity indicated there was no other option. Stuck tight between her parents, her hands in a chokehold, there was no air, and when they Disapparated there was less.

She sat low in her seat, picking at her nails, ignoring everyone. It was horrid to be there, to see the things and the man she so wanted destroyed right before her, and seemingly winning. She was the only one in Dumbledore's Army who knew this side of the world so well, really one of the only Hogwarts students who knew it at all. There were four or five Slytherins her age who had parents like hers, and they were people she had ended her friendships with the minute they had stepped onto the train to begin their first year.

The room was cold, and candlelit, and it was late. Felicity had made it a mission to tune out the conversation around her, and when he said her name, it took a moment to even notice something was happening. But everyone was looking at her, and she realized suddenly her mother had her wand, that she had had it all night since helping her get dressed. Voldemort was explaining something about Draco's father, the sad loss of Narcissa, Dumbledore's Army, punishment, rehabilitation, pureblood children…

"You would do this to me?" she choked to her mother through tears. Everyone was standing up and hustling away, her parents included. Her mother didn't answer, didn't kiss her goodbye. She walked to the head of the table and handed Lucius Malfoy Felicity's wand, and then left.

The door to the dining room snapped shut behind the final guest, all the hubbub fading away, leaving Felicity frozen in her seat and Lucius standing, gripping the chair in front of him. She couldn't move; she could hardly see.

"Your birthday is in March," he said. A bizarre icebreaker.

"You know it is," she replied through gritted teeth.

Felicity had spent so many birthdays at the Manor, or with Draco as one of the only guests at her house.

"Yes, I do. We will wait until you are of age."

"Wait to…" she began to ask, and then stopped. She understood. Lucius walked down the table to her, and held out his hand. She ignored it, and he drew it back.

"We will wait. I'll take you to your bedroom now, far from mine. In the morning we can talk."

There was nothing left to do. She stood up and followed him.

* * *

Felicity's feet remembered the way they went – to a guest room on the same hall as Draco's. She noted light under his door. She hardly remembered him having been there that night. Her room was at the end of the hallway, and when Lucius opened the door, the scene knocked the air out of her. It hadn't changed at all from the sweet, pink, floral respite Narcissa had made for her 10 years before. Lucius watched her trail around it critically.

"I thought you'd prefer to be here," he said, "but if you'd like, there are other rooms, furnished more plainly…"

"No," she replied. "It's nice to be here. Nice as it could be."

He nodded, and stepped back into the hall.

"Narcissa loved making this room for you," he said in a low tone. "She loved you."

Felicity nodded. Her eyes were filling up again.

"And she hated your parents," he finished, sounding almost as if he'd like to laugh. "Good night, Felicity." The door shut behind him, and Felicity heard his cane click all the way back down the hall.

* * *

She slept until the late morning, although when she laid down the night before she had been sure she wouldn't be able to. The place was so familiar to her upon waking that she didn't remember what had happened. It was just another sleepover at the Malfoy's.

Felicity rolled over and couldn't ignore the truth of it any longer. She looked directly into the mirror on the vanity, and saw herself as she was – 16, in last night's clothes, imprisoned.

Through the crack of the closet door she could see that there were clothes hanging for her. They looked extremely luxurious, and oppressive. Hungry, and ready for coffee, she slid from bed and shed the robes her mother had given her. She wished desperately to have her wand, and to incinerate them. She chose a navy blue dress, left the outer robes behind, did nothing to her hair, and let memory lead her to the breakfast room.

Lucius was there, although his plate was gone, and the _Daily Prophet_ beside him had obviously been rifled all the way through. He shot out of his seat when she appeared in the doorway; his eyes showed he had not had the same restful night as her.

"Where is my wand?" she asked immediately. Lucius sat and gestured to her set place.

"It is with me, where it will stay."

"For how long?"

His veneer was already cracking, she could tell.

"Felicity…I believe you can imagine why we don't want you to have it while you live here."

Tea appeared in her cup.

"What's the elf's name?" she asked.

"Dottie."

"Dottie, please change this for coffee."

The elf appeared, cowered, apologized.

"You won't forget Mrs. Malfoy's order from now on, Dottie," Lucius scolded.

Felicity blanched.

"We aren't married," she mumbled, watching coffee now rise from the bottom of the cup.

"And we may never be, not before an officiant. The Dark Lord has ordered us to live as though we are, however."

At that he reached into his pocket and set a plain gold band on her still empty plate. She put it on – already she was understanding the constraints of her new world, and what would and would not be tolerated. The ring had to be accepted. She felt warm magic seize to fit her finger perfectly.

"And yours?" she asked. His left hand had stayed under the table. He lifted it then and flexed his fingers.

"I already have one." Lucius stood up and gestured at the paper, which flew back together and into his hand. "Finish your breakfast and then go get a cloak, and meet me at the back door. We'll walk in the garden."

* * *

It wasn't a very nice day for it – not snowing, but thinking about it. Lucius was waiting for her facing out to grounds, hands and cane clasped behind him. To their left was the conservatory, what had been the stage for so many of her and Draco's childhood imaginings.

"I won't keep you long," he said to her reflection in the window. "I've places to be."

"I'm not worried about you infringing on my day," she replied. He opened the door and gestured for her to go out.

The grass was very stiff beneath their feet, and all the eye could see was frost green shrubs and trees. The fountains weren't running and the flowerbeds were dug up. Felicity and Lucius walked side by side, far enough apart to be business colleagues, or perhaps even a father and his son's oldest friend.

"Am I to call you Lucius?" she asked.

He glanced at her, surprised.

"Yes, of course. What else would you?"

"Well, I've never called you that before in my life."

"No," he mused, "I suppose that's true. But I'm not yet unjust enough to require you to call me Mr. Malfoy, still."

They walked on, and on. Felicity had thought he would have some talking points, or rules, to share, but truly it seemed he just wanted to walk them both off the face of the Earth.

When they were approaching the farthest wall of the garden, he stopped and turned to her.

"I wanted to tell you how Narcissa died."

"Oh." Was that all?

"She died very suddenly. Ill for a couple of days, no one could solve it. She barely remembered me by the end. This was just after I got out of Azkaban, escaped from Azkaban, I suppose. The Dark Lord was bitterly disappointed with all of us. Do you see what I mean?"

"Yes," she replied slowly. "I think so."

"I have been punished extremely already for my failures, Felicity. The Dark Lord tolerates little, and he is tolerating less as time goes on. I didn't ask to have you here, but the Dark Lord wishes it. He wishes for you to have children. He wishes for us both to understand how we wronged him, and to repent, together. We are going to do it, or we are going to die. Do you understand?"

She nodded. The wind was blistering her face, and she felt she could hardly hear him anymore.

"You're cold. We'll go back. I really must be going, anyway. You can explore, or rest. We'll have dinner at 7, always at 7."

* * *

Felicity was sure there was no chance of escape. There hadn't been even when she and Draco were little, and the world was at peace. The gate required a wand to open, the Floo canisters were all sealed to only be opened with magic. A broomstick couldn't leave the property, or get in. Really, this was all normal for a wizarding household, or at least the kind where she had grown up – it was just that no one had ever been trying to keep her in before.

Draco kept the door to his room firmly shut all day, leaving Felicity to wander freely as Lucius had promised. The only things new to her, really, were some changes in décor, and the low rumble of voices coming from the other wing, where the Dark Lord stayed. But the Manor on their side was a pleasant enough family home. Lucius had a study, and there was a small library filled to the absolute brim with books, and a sitting room encased in windows on 2 sides. The breakfast room and an intimate dining room flanked a practical kitchen, and two halls of bedrooms radiated away. Somewhere, she knew, perhaps in the other wing, there were dungeons, and a potions laboratory. The formal rooms were there too, the large dining room and a ballroom, both over a much more substantial kitchen. This was all behind large double doors just near the conservatory, the doors Lucius had led her through the night before and which she guessed were locked to her now.

She went into the sitting room and sat at the piano, trailing her fingers along the keys but ultimately closing the fallboard and laying her head on it. Snow had started to fall outside, and she watched it from her sideways viewpoint, dazed.

Why wasn't she panicked? Why wasn't she afraid of the future to come? Perhaps it was to come still, she reassured herself, as she was sure if she did not start panicking soon she had lost her mind entirely.

* * *

The panic did come, forcibly, the day Draco returned to Hogwarts. He had spent the last days of break avoiding her and his father, although he was obliged to join them for dinner each night. Then they would all sit in silence, and retire to their own rooms as soon as dessert was gone.

Before he left, she had cornered Draco in the library, begging him with wild eyes to tell someone at school what was happening.

"Please, Draco. Haven't we been good friends? When we were little? Just mention it to anyone, anyone at all. Tell Cho Chang for all I care."

"Felicity, stop." The smirk had slid off his face. He pitied her. "You know I can't tell anyone."

"Just that I'm alive then, just that."

"If anyone finds out you're talking this way, you'll live to regret it."

"I've no doubt the rest of my life will be full of regrets, Draco Malfoy."

"I'm sorry."

* * *

So then that was her reality. Her last connection to her beloved world and friends, gone. Her last reminder that she too was young and bright and promising. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team would miss her. No one else could Chase like her. She had started a special new Arithmancy project; Professor Vector would pick someone new to assist her. Her bed would lay empty, her things would fall off the walls. What would they do with all of it – her half eaten sugarquills, her Gobstones, the ratty nightgown that had come back with her laundry once by mistake and become her favorite? Throw it away? Send it to her parents, who would then throw it away?

She flew most days, endless loops inside the forcefield that bound her. She would rise higher and higher until the broom would slow, knowing better than her the limits of her confinement. Sometimes Lucius would come outside and shout at her to come down, that she wasn't meant to be endangering herself. She would lower precisely before him, dismount with a toss of sandy hair, and storm inside like the teenager she was, leaving him to care for the broom.

That Felicity was beautiful Lucius couldn't deny. Tall, athletic, curly hair most of the way down her back. She had an aquiline nose that she didn't like, and mottled, starry blue eyes. But Lucius was not falling for her the way his master had predicted; in fact, as the days inched forward he retreated farther from her. Going to bed with her grew more unthinkable. She was so young, and so willful. Could he break her? Did he want to?

* * *

Lucius took the responsibility of going into the library after she had gone to sleep and reshelving her books. He understood why she never did it herself; without her wand, it would be too much work to climb the ladders again and find the right places.

One day in late February, very late, he found her still in the library, asleep with her cheek on an Arithmancy book.

"Felicity," he said, and then once more louder. Nothing. He chanced placing a cautious hand on her shoulder, and she started.

"God, I was having a dream. I thought…" She sat up and put her head in her hands, and then shook it and looked up. "Never mind."

Lucius pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.

"You love Arithmancy," he stated.

"I was going to be an Arithmancer," she said, looking steadily at him. "I suppose now I'm not going to be anything."

But Lucius had a surge of inspiration, and for the first time he leaned forward and grasped her hands in his. If he felt her pull back, he didn't react.

"Felicity, you can be an Arithmancer. The Dark Lord…if you swear loyalty, take his Mark, he would let you work. You could have the life you desire, in his service."

Lucius was speaking quickly, crazed, and Felicity finally yanked away. Her gaze turned hard.

"Lucius, I have already been sold to the Dark Lord once. Do not put me through it again. I plan to remain innocent in your crimes. Good night."

Felicity left, and he put his head down where hers had been.


	2. Blinding

On her birthday, there was a gift at the breakfast table. Lucius wasn't there. She couldn't bear to open it. Was it going to be tonight? Was that what the gift was for?

Later she was sitting at her window seat with her forehead pressed against the glass when he knocked. She made some noise of allowance, and turned a bit to see him enter, holding out the box.

"Did you not see this?"

"I saw it."

"It’s for you."

"A bribe."

"A birthday gift, Felicity."

He was unwrapping the paper for her, and then he crouched down beside her to slide the ring he unearthed onto her hand. Unlike the wedding ring, this one fit perfectly on the first try, a single emerald on a band wrought to look like twining vines.

"It's very nice. Thank you."

But he was still holding her hand, and she was not surprised to feel his very gentle lips come down on it, and then begin to go up her arm. Of course it was going to start tonight. Her vision began to swim, and she tugged away. Lucius sighed and stood up.

"Not tonight, Felicity. I won't ruin your birthday. But tomorrow…there can be no more excuses, for either of us."

She sucked back tears and nodded, blinking very hard.

* * *

The next morning, Felicity was awoken by elves she could hardly see off the side of the bed scurrying around and taking away all her things. There was to be no more separation between her and Lucius. She rolled over and tried to take in the last brilliant morning in her pink floral sheets.

Lucius knocked at the door while she was still contemplating what would now be the rest of her life. She called for him to enter.

"Good morning," he said, hesitating in the doorway upon seeing she was still in bed. "May I come in?"

"Tomorrow you won't have to ask, will you? Yes, come in."

He shut the door gently and went to the window seat.

"It is very pink in here," he remarked.

"I like it. I suppose it would be a nice nursery." Felicity was feeling extremely petulant.

Lucius clicked his tongue.

"The nursery is closer to our bedroom. But you already know that."

"Yes, I do."

"Did the elves get all your things?"

"Nothing in here really belongs to me, as far as I'm aware. But yes."

"Are there things you'd like? You never ask. Money is no object."

"Oh really? I didn't know that," Felicity shot back, rolling her eyes.

Lucius frowned at her, and she frowned back.

"What did you come to talk about, Lucius?"

"It would have felt bizarre to say nothing to you today. Am I wrong to have tried?" Lucius was looking a little desperate at this point.

"The boundaries of "wrong" seem extremely blurred in this house," she replied.

Lucius stood up and straightened his clothes, reconfiguring his face back to its impenetrable state. On his way back to the hall, he stooped and kissed her on the cheek.

"You are only the second woman, ever, in my life, Felicity, and –" he began, and then seemed to think better of it. He cleared his throat. "Well. I'll expect to see you at dinner."

* * *

Lucius told her to go to the bedroom first after dinner; he'd be along after a few moments in his study. Felicity stood alone in the center of the room, their room, his room, the room where he and Narcissa had slept and she and Draco had played house. She was unsure of what to do, feeling an imposter looking at every place there was to sit. And she didn't know what to wear. She didn't really want to do anything to appeal to him, but to remain clothed seemed foolish. There was no doubt that it was happening; seeing her still in her dress would not stop him. She fussed about it for too long and when he came back, she was just standing there in her slip.

"Come here," he said, and gestured for her to sit on the side of the bed with him.

Felicity sat and stared at the wall as he picked up her hand the same way he had the day before. The ring was there, and he twisted it a bit before kissing her hand. It was very tender, but already she was cold.

"How far have you been before?" he asked.

"Nowhere," she whispered. "Kissing."

"Touching?"

She shook her head.

Lucius closed his eyes for a minute. What a thing he was about to inflict on her.

"Here," he said, standing up. "Let me undress farther."

He wasn't wearing his robes, but she watched him strip farther down to just underwear and a t-shirt. He fussed with the hem of the shirt for a moment, and then sat back down without removing it.

"You'll feel more ready, I think, if we kiss for a while."

"Will I?" she started to ask, but he was already laying her down with a hand on one side of her head, and leaning in.

Lucius was not bad at kissing, she could tell that, but her lips couldn't move against his. She stifled a noise – a sob? A groan? She had thought earlier in the day about asking him for some kind of sedative, but then had decided she was strong enough. Now she felt extremely weak.

He began to raise her skirt and trail his hands up her leg, and once it was up around her waist he pulled one of her hands down to his underwear. Felicity couldn't believe this had been enough to get him as erect as he was; she drew her hand back.

He continued for a moment more, touching her gently on her legs and hips, kissing her neck, but eventually, feeling no response from her, he pulled away and stood up, striping to nothing while Felicity barely looked. He grasped for his wand for a moment, and vanished her underwear, and, to her embarrassment, cast some kind of lubrication charm.

"I can see you're blushing," he said, climbing back into the bed. "Please don't. It'll be so much easier with that. I think I'm correct in reading that you'd like this to be finished."

Lucius had adjusted her to be facing the correct way in the bed, and he placed one firm hand on her thigh and nudged her legs open.

"You're very beautiful, Felicity," he said, starting to breath heavily as he stroked himself closer to finishing. "You really are, and I promise it'll be fast."

She did not feel beautiful when he entered her, or when he bent his head to her shoulder and began to thrust. The pain didn't shock her; he was right, the charm helped, and she felt only pressure. But this was very much the end of something. The introduction of a burden.

He was able to finish quickly, and collapse briefly on top of her, placing one last kiss on her neck dappled with his sweat. Then he rolled away, and she curled in on herself.

"Every day?" she whispered, hardly expecting he'd hear her.

"How about every other day? Unless…unless we aren't successful."

"I don't want a baby. I don't want to be successful."

"Neither do I."

* * *

Lucius went to shower after advising her to stay prone for a few more minutes, and as soon as she heard the water run, she tried to tug his ring off her hand. She wouldn't have his bribe, although she hadn't meant to fling it quite so far across the room in taking it off. Felicity stood up and followed it as it rolled across the floor, until she thought she saw it settle under what was now her vanity. However when she reached down it was not the ring at all, but a very sharp piece of broken mirror left behind presumably after the rest had been cleaned up.

In that moment, so immensely alone and used and unhappy, she could not help but take it up to her wrist, and press down, hard.

Felicity heard a scream echo through the room, and she didn't know from where it came.

* * *

When she awoke, her head was propped on a towel, and the unique taste of Blood Replenishing Potion was on her breath. The blood she had seen before fainting was gone; she could hear Lucius washing his hands in the bathroom. He came back, blood on the cuffs of his dressing gown, holding the ring. She opened her mouth to apologize, but everything moved too slowly. He bent down and scooped her up easily.

"This is what I get," he muttered, "for trying to be nice."

* * *

Two days later, the same routine, although he toned down the theatrics of attempting to make her comfortable significantly. She simply waited while he approached completion with his hand, and then dutifully opened her legs as he moved close. He left for the bathroom much faster; she stayed put perfectly until he returned.

There was no point now, Felicity guessed, in telling him that she did know how to orgasm, that surely there was something he could do make her more at ease. There had been a chance of that the first time, but she had ruined his compassion. That was the first time she named something as her fault.

* * *

She didn't have to wait too long to become the desired golden girl. Within two months she could grit her teeth and shyly tell Lucius she had missed a cycle, and they could both sigh relief and take their hands off one another.

* * *

Draco came home for the summer to find his friend very subdued and beginning to show. It was strange to wonder how much of it was an act, the appearance of little motherhood, and how much of it really was Felicity shrinking into the confines of her life. It was awkward to spend time with her in silence while she sewed tiny clothes – in another lifetime, Felicity wouldn't have sat so still for all the world. His father appeared to be very polite to her, very generous with affection and offers to get her off her feet, or bring her a drink. She appeared civil to him, and suffered the embarrassment gracefully of asking him or Draco to do things for her she should have been able to do herself with her wand. Books from the top shelf were summoned for her, rooms cooled, paintings in the nursery hung, broken glasses repaired.

One day he chanced to enter the sitting room at a time when he thought they wouldn't be there, but instead found them both, Felicity falling forward into her hands and audibly sobbing. His father was right beside her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. Draco managed to slip back out the door without being seen, but he couldn't make himself go away. Their voices were loud enough to overhear, and the curiosity he had surrounding their life together overruled his judgement.

"I can't do it, Lucius," Felicity cried. "I simply can't. I don't want to, it's going to hurt, I'm not ready."

"Felicity, there is nothing to be done about it now. You will have plenty of help. We can make sure you don't feel the birth. Please calm down. Come to the bedroom and I'll go fix you a draught to relax."

"I cannot be a mother. I don't want to, I never wanted this."

"Felicty," he said again, his voice lowering. He dropped to his knees to creep in even closer to her. "Have you ever held a newborn baby in your arms?"

Draco could tell she shook her head from the jingling of her necklaces.

"Then you cannot understand. When the baby is _yours_ …even better. Soon you will know what that's like. You will feel the warmth of your very own little human being nestled safe against you."

But she didn't stop crying. It seemed a useless fight, and as Draco heard them stand, he turned on his heel and went away quickly. If he had stayed, he would have seen Lucius do his best to hold Felicity upright as she slipped down to the floor in complete despair. He gathered her up again, and carried her resignedly down the hall.

Later, Lucius sought Draco out in the library. He stood leaned against the doorframe, one hand very near his mouth, ready to bite his nails. Draco had seen his father indulge in this habit very rarely in his life.

"I know you were outside the sitting room," he began.

"I'm sorry, I –" Draco started, but Lucius stopped him.

"You live here as well. There are no secrets, I suppose. Felicity is right about everything. She's too young and it's too much for her and it will hurt."

Draco did not know what to say.

"But it's too late. It was too late even before she ever arrived here," Lucius went on.

"Are you…pleased?"

At that question Lucius did begin to chew on his nails, staring hard into the fire.

"We never wanted more children. And I'm old for it now. But I suppose I was right, when you hold them…they are wanted."

"When the war ends, what will Felicity's life be like, Father? She didn't finish school, she'll be such a young mother…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Draco. When she can have her wand back, she could have instruction at home, perhaps."

"But when will you deem her safe to have it back? How could you ever trust that she's ready to stay here without fighting back?"

"When the war ends, Draco, there will be nothing else for her. Nothing better than what we have together here. Nothing greater than her family. She will have learned."

"Does she ever speak of her parents?"

Lucius shook his head slowly.

"No…she sees them, of course, when they're here, but it's one of the few times she seems to cling to me. She won't approach them, or sit near them, or anything. They don't know she's pregnant; I doubt they will until it's obvious."

"I never liked them."

"No, and Felicity didn't either, I don’t think. She spent as much time here as they'd allow. They drove her away from the Dark Lord, really. She may have stayed dutiful if they hadn't been so horrible to her. So strict. Her mother never let her fly until she got to school. Such an old fashioned way of raising girls. We never agreed on it."

"And for them to sell her like that…" Draco chanced to say.

"Despicable. I would have run with you in the same situation. They could have kept her safe, easily, easily."

* * *

Lucius had told her to stay upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind him. What she didn't see was the moment he spent just outside, considering whether or not to lock it.

For the next hour, she could hear mingled voices, some unfamiliar, many of them yelling. They were in the other wing, and they were extremely loud.

After another stretch of time passed, the voices changed. There were just two now, both women, one clearly suffering. Felicity pushed the bedroom door ajar. The suffering woman was screaming now. Felicity took a step. The screaming intensified. She took two more, and before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of the formal dining room, listening to Bellatrix Lestrange torture Hermione Granger.

* * *

_Nothing good can come of this_ , Felicity thought, ear pressed against the door, hand on the knob. _They can't save me_. She was staring to believe this now; the mind games were working. But she kept gripping the knob harder and harder, possibilities spinning around her addled brain.

She could hear Harry and Ron now, and Luna. The voices hadn't been unfamiliar; they were simply long lost.

Suddenly, for a minute, everything was quiet. Then, Bellatrix's cruel voice.

"Someone is listening at the door, children. Wouldn't you like to know who?" Felicity's hand flew off the knob, and her breath caught. She turned to run, and the door banged open behind her.

"Say hello, Felicity," Bellatrix said. "These are guests in your home. And hasn't it been so long since they've seen you? Why don't you show them what's changed?"

Felicity turned, slowly, wretchedly, to see her friends standing in a line, wands pointed at them by Lucius and Draco. There was no way to hide that she was pregnant.

Hermione looked as if she had expected this from the beginning, and Luna looked like she could cry. Harry and Ron just stared. She smiled weakly.

"Felicity," Lucius said, warning. "Go upstairs. I told you to stay upstairs."

She couldn't move, her bare feet seemed glued to the floor. She made eye contact with Harry, and felt a little twinge, the memory of another time coming back. He might have raised the corner of his mouth a single millimeter, or maybe he didn't, but she knew intrinsically what he meant to say. It took only one more moment for her to gather her strength and lunge forward, running as fast as she could.

Spells flew and people started to shout again; it took only a second for her to move and set off this reaction. Felicity stretched out her hand and brushed against Luna's fingertips. She clutched the air in front of her but there was no use; just when her friends were pulled back into the vortex of light, Lucius's arm closed around her chest. Arm still pushed forward, she felt the slightest pull as they slipped away from her, but he was stronger, and determined.

The force of the fall was enormous, not the same at all as if they had fallen from the same height without the vortex pulling them in. Lucius's arm had knocked the wind out of her, but what was worse was that she had landed flat, directly on her stomach, Lucius's entire weight behind her. As soon as he rose, she screamed out in pain.

He wouldn't move her, at first thinking her spine was broken. So she lay there, bleeding, knowing what was happening to her, while all around her the world whirled. Elves were sent for Severus and for Healers, and Draco was sent across the house for Blood Replenishing Potion and sedatives.

"Lucius," she said to him as he knelt beside her, flexing her joints and listening to her heart. "It's not me. It's not me at all. It's the baby."

"Goddammit, Felicity, I know that. Lay still! For the love of Merlin stay where you are."

Draco brought back many vials; one slipped away from him and shattered. His father repaired it without a word, and then began dosing her. By the time a shape she thought was Snape arrived, she had lost track entirely of where she was.

* * *

When she woke up, Felicity felt immensely heavy. Lucius was beside her in their bed, sitting up with an arm over his eyes. She had to stir only a bit to rouse him; when he took his arm down the darkness under his eyes shocked her. There was a bruise on his face – from the fall? Had someone struck him?

"The baby is lost," he said promptly, almost as if he had wished to say it. Lucius stood and she saw through the blurry edges of her vision that he was dressed, completely dressed as if he was going out. "You are to rest for a week. The elves know of it; get up as little as you can and they'll attend to you. I'll be gone. When I return we'll begin again."

Her reaction was slight. She wished she could feel it more.

"You'll leave me here alone after all this?"

"You are not to be rewarded for your actions, Felicity."

And he turned, and left.

* * *

What a hollow feeling. Felicity had assumed, before she got up gently to go shower, that her stomach would remain loose for some time, but she found that the Healer must have taken care of that as well. Very little reminder remained, except the desire to hold her middle everywhere she went. Her hands were suddenly very empty.

She did as told; the era of ignoring her marching orders was obviously in the past. She doubted very much that any friend of hers would be allowed to return to the Manor again, prisoner or not. Luckily someone had left a very strong sleeping draught on her bedside table. Whether they had meant to or not, they had done her a huge service. Each time she opened her eyes, she ate and did her best to stay up longer than the time before, but eventually could not resist the promise of rest. Sometimes she was so dazed when she woke, she thought for a moment the baby had been born, that she was only waiting for someone to hand it to her.

The baby had been expected within the next two months. It had been much more by that point than a promise, or a threat. Felicity could not pretend she felt very more than relief at the loss, but there was natural sadness that couldn't be slept away. Mostly, the companion she had anticipated wasn't coming. The new purpose to her life was gone. She had started to imagine, as the walls of the Manor closed around her and the baby began to kick, days of sunshine ahead with someone who would love her and, not only that, only her. She had never imagined Lucius being there much at all, forgetting his undying involvement with his living son.

When she thought it had been about 5 days since Lucius had left, Severus came to her door. She couldn't right herself or act pleasant towards him; a croaked "hello" was his only welcome.

"I've come to see how you're doing. The potions…" he trailed off awkwardly, gesturing to the mess on the bedside.

"I'm taking them, as you can see."

"Dutifully, obviously."

"So you're the one who left them," she said, managing to sit up a bit. He had pulled a chair up to the bed, and was holding her wrist for her pulse.

"Of course. It's silliness, they can't bring you a halfway decent Healer. They could be Obliviated, even under the Imperius Curse…but no, they must be one of our ranks, and the one we have is a fool."

Felicity was beginning to understand something.

"Professor…" she began, but he cut her off quickly.

"You may call me Severus, now."

She was even more sure.

"Severus, tell them I understand why I can't be rescued. Tell them I will be ok."

"Lord, you are addled. I've brought weaker brews for you, and you have to promise to take them less often. The supply will not be indefinite."

But there had been the smallest hint of a nod.

"You'll come back," she said. "I need company."

He nodded again, clearly this time.

"Lucius will not return happy," she went on.

"No, he will not. I'm sorry for it. He had been so determined to be gentle to you before, if distant. I doubt he'll return in the same mindset. The Dark Lord is…displeased with him." This honesty made Felicity shut her eyes.

"May I have my next dose?"

"Did you eat today?"

"Yes."

“Yes.”

* * *

The next day Felicity managed to wake up and stay up, and after the elf brought her breakfast on a tray, she slipped out the door. They wouldn't be back for at least an hour for the tray, not that they could really stop her from getting up anyway.

She headed for Lucius's study, suddenly curious about something. So many evenings he sent her to bed before him, going first to do some work. But Felicity knew that Lucius's work happened during the day, when he was gone from the Manor, or in the other wing. She had seen him write a check standing up at his desk before, or sit to write a letter, maybe, but nothing that could really be called work.

It was immediately obvious what the truth was – the desk was scattered with photographs, mostly of Narcissa alone, or with Draco, and a few of them together as a young family. Narcissa and Lucius really were so handsome together; their wedding portrait, the only framed picture, displayed that fact proudly.

The study was a cramped room, just on the other side of the library and functioning as a sort of overflow. Books were stacked around a very overstuffed couch, and a bottle of scotch sat on the floor next to Lucius's chair. There were at least 5 rooms bigger and more appropriate for a study than this one, Felicity thought. The curtains looked as if they hadn't been opened in years; was there even a window behind them?.

Felicity fell into the desk chair, exhausted from a short walk. She flipped a bit through the photographs; many of them were showing wear on the edges. Dates were etched on the back, the oldest as long ago as 1970, showing Narcissa rolling her eyes in what must have been the Slytherin common room. Just Felicity's age, she realized, and looking so much younger than Felicity now felt.

* * *

She sat on the bench by the front door the entire day Lucius had promised to return. Her food came on trays, was picked at, and returned.

He didn't come until after dark, after she had fussed over a plate of roast chicken. Felicity jumped up as soon as the door opened; he was obviously surprised to see her.

"You're meant to be in bed," he said, immediately turning his back as he removed his cloak.

"Hello to you too. All I did was sit here all day."

"Mmm," he muttered, already walking away.

"Lucius, wait!" she called, running to him. "Lucius, I am ready to be good. I am ready to have a baby."

He appraised her. She wondered if there had been other women while he was gone; his eyes despised her.

"Very well. Go wait in bed."

And he kept walking.


	3. Devotion is a River

Severus had been right. All gentleness was gone. Lucius used Felicity up, night after night, and in the mornings dressed her to his taste and then disappeared, either out of the house or to the wing where his master stayed. Then back for dinner, drinks, a firm hand on her arm, leading her back to their bed.

* * *

Her period came again and again and again, each time removing a freedom. No more flying the first time – he never should have let her in the first place. Then wine at dinner, then staying up too late reading in bed, then cutting down her walking time. Felicity had lost her appetite long ago, and it was beginning to get fascinating, in a way, to see how small she would grow. She was expected to finish all her meals completely, which usually devolved into shouting matches and tears between herself and Lucius when she simply couldn't, or wouldn't, do it.

And then her birthday arrived again, this time without any notice from Lucius. In fact, she didn't even see him in the morning, a rarity, and without him standing over her she allowed herself a much more comfortable dress, and barely touched her hair.

She wasn't supposed to go on long walks, but she could spend her mornings in the garden within sight of the Manor. Felicity knew she could be seen, of course she could be, because that was how he made sure she was doing as told. But at this point, a pair of eyes on her from a distance felt like very little surveillance at all, and she forgot entirely he might be watching.

At dinner that night, there remained no hint of a celebration.

"It's my birthday, you know," she couldn't help but say.

"I do know," he replied, without stopping his meal.

"You didn't get me a gift."

"I did get you a gift, although I shouldn't have after it was so badly received last year. It's in the bedroom; don't ask any more of it."

She was able to finish her dinner that night.

Lucius walked her down the hall, her arm on his as if they were going to a gala event.

"I watched you outside today," he remarked. "You looked very beautiful, I thought."

"I'm dressed very plainly."

"I liked it. I had forgotten how sweet you can look."

She didn't really know if that was a compliment, and stayed quiet.

"Have you ever had pleasure when we have sex?" he asked. This was very abrupt to Felicity. They still had what felt like miles to go to the bedroom.

"I…Lucius, I don't…"

"But you did before you came here, I assume. You knew yourself."

A year ago, Felicity would have laughed, at least to herself, over this exceedingly polite way of referencing masturbation. Now she could only blush hot and wonder what he had planned for her.

"Yes," she whispered.

"And you never said anything about it, this entire year."

"No, Lucius, I just wanted it over."

"You've been very good the past few months, Felicity. I know you've been diligent in pleasing me. You do everything I ask in bed. Even if you don't like it – you barely fuss at all."

She murmured agreement; there didn't seem like much to say. Lucius's hand had slipped away from her arm and around her waist, and his hand was creeping lower.

"So that is your gift, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, glancing down at her. "I will become your partner, finally."

* * *

This was much more confusing, waking up not simply blank, maybe a little sore, but _happy_. Remembering pleasure inflicted on her by her captor. Thinking him, for however fleeting her climax, a good man.

And then he grabbed her again in the hazy morning, pressing hard against her with proof that he desired her, and she yielded, and that was the end of it all.

* * *

Desire doesn't make babies, however, and Draco had returned from his last year at Hogwarts before they were successful. Again, he found Felicity different. If she had been stoic last summer, this time she was dreamy, trailing about in Lucius's wake and sitting, bizarrely Draco thought, at his feet while he read. Lucius swore to his son he didn't ask her to do that, that she truly liked it.

Felicity had grown into a nervous creature. Lucius offered no answer for why she didn't get out of bed until after noon most days, and why he so often had to carry her to bed from the sitting room, frequently in tears. She asked permission to go into the garden, and if Lucius was not at home she would not go. It reminded Draco all too much of the radio dramas his mother used to enjoy; when, he wondered, would his father's good twin arrive?

Draco asked her once if she ever thought about her past life, about Hogwarts, and she turned to him with a sudden clarity in her eyes.

"I try not to," she replied, so steadily that he knew somewhere she was still inside herself, "because it hurts so much."

* * *

Lucius did often find her weeping into the couch cushions. She was not trying to draw attention to herself, or make a scene, but it seemed that things were pouring out of her at a rate she couldn't comprehend. He would help her to bed, get her ready, have her dinner brought in on a tray. He'd sit there while she worked her way through as well as she could – knowing she would now never finish her plate from force of habit, he had them brought piled high to hopefully trick her into having more. And then he'd leave her there, have his dinner, perhaps do some work, perhaps visit with the Dark Lord. On days like that it was rarely later than 6 o'clock when she finished eating; really, he was just leaving her for a nap. And then how perfectly ready she was when _he_ was ready. Already in bed, calm, refreshed, excited to see him again.

"I missed you," she'd say.

"I missed you, too."

* * *

He supposed he was starting to grow fond of her. Eventually, as he continued to coddle her, she grew less fitful, although no less dependent on him, and they would walk through the grounds together, going farther than she was allowed to herself.

Sometimes on these walks, Lucius would ask Felicity to slip into a ring of holly trees with him, ones grown so closely together that you had to squeeze your eyes shut to get through safely. Inside there was a little stone bench, put there who knows how many hundreds of years before them. It would be nice, he pressed her gently, if she could get down on her knees while he sat there and…yes. That's a good girl.

Felicity thought of very little. Lucius was simply the one who was there with her. He was there most of the day, helping her with various things, and when he wasn't she thought of where he was.

* * *

One day Lucius left her in the morning with a reminder.

"You're to come downstairs for our meeting at 7. I don't have time today to be with you at dinner, or help you get dressed. There's a set of robes out for you, if you'd like. At 7, Felicity."

"Yes, Lucius, at 7," she said back. He was relieved that there was a bit of levity in her, almost an eyeroll, and left confidently enough.

5:30 came; Felicity dutifully went to the little dining room to eat dinner. Then she went and got dressed, and at 6:55 she stood up to go downstairs. And then she sat back down. She could not go. She just sat there, at her vanity, staring out the window, and then when it grew dark, at herself in the glass, and waited for Lucius to come back.

Lucius did come back, of course, more upset than perhaps she had ever seen him. He strode across the room so quickly that she barely had time to turn after he opened the bedroom door, and snatched her by her arm, twisting it hard as he pulled her to her feet.

"Did you forget?"

"No. Lucius, you're hurting me. You're tearing my dress."

His grip only tightened, and she was able to see from the corner of her eye that he had lifted his cane as well, not as if to remove his wand but as if to strike with it.

"So what then? You're suddenly too good to do as I ask? As the Dark Lord asked of you?"

"I don't know, Lucius," she cried out, "I really don't. I just couldn't make my feet move."

"Next time you can't make your feet move, you call for an elf, and they'll take you, or better yet, they will call for me and I will come get you and make sure you never think of doing such a thing ever again."

And then he did strike her, across the face, with the snake head of his wand.

"Get up," he said immediately. "Your dress is ruined. Take it off."

* * *

He didn't heal her face for her. It wasn't too bad – anyone, in a different place and time, would have thought she had had a simple accident. But in this place and this time, the only people she saw were Draco and Severus, and they knew that Felicity was too careful to fall around Lucius.

One day shortly after that, she was walking down the hall to lunch when she overheard raised voices in Lucius's study. Her diligent feet carried her forward, although her troublesome mind slowed them significantly.

"You should heal that mark on her, Lucius. It's disgraceful. I never imagined you a man to treat his wife like this, and then leave her to bear the signs," Severus said.

"Felicity is a difficult child –"

" _Child,_ Lucius, is the word you seem to forget."

"You know what I mean. I call Draco a child still."

"Draco has finished school. Draco has his wand. Call him what you wish but do not disrespect Felicity in this way."

"Felicity will have all those things in time as well, Severus."

Felicity was getting too far away. She thought she heard Severus sigh.

"She will not –"

And then she was gone.

* * *

Severus ate lunch with them, their bizarre little family. Draco kept his eyes glued down and the older men talked together of the War. Felicity did feel very much like the child, as if her body was so much smaller than it really was. As if she was sitting on a pile of books, feet dangling. They got through dessert without her uttering a word, and tea was being served.

"Draco, you may be excused," Lucius said. Draco opened his mouth to say something about the tea, but Lucius talked over him. "You may have your tea elsewhere. You are excused."

Now Felicity was interested, although somewhat morbidly. She sat up straighter, taking in her companions for the first time that day. Severus was starting pointedly at his plate, and Lucius was staring pointedly at him.

"I've told Severus about your trouble conceiving, Felicity," Lucius went on.

"Oh," she peeped.

"He's brought some potions for you to try. You two will go to the sitting room after lunch and discuss it."

"Yes, Lucius," she replied, shrinking back.

* * *

Severus put his little leather covered box down on the coffee table and began to pull out vials. She sat on the floor and watched while he explained each potion to her – what they were for and when she should take them. Once he had explained all of them, he hesitated, and then pulled one more from his coat pocket.

"This is a mild sedative. If you take it sparingly, it will numb your body and blur your mind for a period of time, but leave you mostly responsive. Do you understand?"

She bit her lip. How had it come to this, Professor Snape giving her sedatives to get her through sex, through life?

Felicity hesitated a moment, her hand hovering just beside his, outstretched.

"I do."

"Good. I would keep it hidden."

* * *

If Lucius noticed how dull she was in bed now, he didn't care. She was alert enough to do as he asked, to shift or bend over or open her mouth. But Felicity felt very little, felt so little really that it would sometimes be a surprise to her in the morning when bruised bloomed across her hips.

He caught her off guard still, of course. Perhaps that was why he didn't notice – there were still afternoons when he found her unexpectedly in the sitting room and laid her down in the floor, or weekends when he called her into the bath with him. Maybe that was why the sedative never broke her of him. He still lived up to his word, when she responded to him, to be an equal partner to her.

* * *

The Dark Lord wanted to see her, alone. She was terrified, and so was Lucius. He helped her get dressed, as always, and kissed her neck as they stared at each other in the mirror.

"Is he going to kill me?" she asked.

"Of course not," he said, hesitating for an unnoticeable second.

* * *

"Do you know why you're here?" Voldemort asked.

"I think so," she said, quivering.

"So what are we going to do?"

"My Lord, I don't know what else to do. I want to please you, and Lucius. We try. We try so much."

They sat in silence until Felicity thought she would start screaming from the fear. Voldemort was holding his wand, tapping it against the arm of his chair. Eventually she began to feel him paging through her mind, and she went limp, unable to resist. She was reliving the past year with him, her loss, her birthday, her conversation with Severus in the sitting room and then…blackness. Months of it.

"I don't really care if you have a child. It's strange how punishments play out beyond what even I had imagined. You and Lucius torture each other enough on any given day, and I'm sure until I remove one of you from the equation, there will always be plenty of unhappiness to remind you both of your wrongs. Watching him grow frantic over your failure has been a pleasure to me. And in that vein, there are many things in your life, Felicity, that happen to you even without your knowledge. You are very small amongst us, and every decision has been made for you. And now I see that there is something of which even Lucius, who is meant to protect you, knows not." Voldemort smiled as she chanced a glance upwards.

"My Lord?"

"You will go now and show Lucius the vial of potion that is under your sink inside the empty jar of lotion. Do you know the one?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"You may leave."

* * *

Lucius was in the shower when she came back to their room. She dutifully fetched the sedative from its hiding place; if Lucius noticed her in the bathroom he did not call out. Then she went back and sat in the armchair, and waited.

He came out wrapped in a towel and considered her. She was alive, that was good. Unharmed as well, although trembling like it was the end of the world.

"What did he say?" he asked.

Felicity held out the vial to him, and he took it, confused.

"He told me to show you this."

Lucius paled, although Felicity still understood nothing. It was just a bit of sedative in a bottle, butter yellow and harmless. He opened it and smelled it; his lip curled.

"Where did you get this, Felicity?"

Suddenly she wanted to lie very badly, as surely something was horribly wrong.

"I found it under the sink when I first arrived here," she replied

"Oh, I highly doubt that." He put the potion down on her vanity and moved closer to Felicity. Damp heat from the shower radiated off of him. "I think it's time to tell me the truth."

She swallowed hard, but didn't speak. He reached down and put his hand around her neck, grasping her arm hard as well to force her to stand.

"Tell me where you got it, Felicity," he said, evenly measured and frighteningly calm. He squeezed, and her hands came up to claw at his.

"Severus," she gasped out, and he released her. "Severus gave it to me when he first started helping us. It's nothing, it's nothing, it just helps me relax."

"Relax."

"Before sex. I take it before we have sex so that I'm not so scared."

He released her to stumble back against the footboard, and picked the vial back up, and smelled it again.

"What does this taste like?" he asked.

"Lemons, and vinegar. It's sour."

"Severus is here, isn't he?"

"Yes. He and Draco are playing chess. I saw them when I walked back."

Lucius was getting dressed furiously, and he only got on pants and an undershirt before he threw the bedroom door open.

"You stay here," he ordered. He started to leave, and then turned back to take the vial with him. On his way out, he looked at her again.

"Actually," he said, "why don't you come with me?"

* * *

Draco and Severus were in the dining room, playing chess and laughing. They both glanced up and froze as Lucius entered, fuming, with Felicity trailing behind.

"I hate to break up all this revelry," Lucius said, "but we have a very big problem. Felicity, why don't you sit down? And _Professor_ ," he put extra, snobbish emphasis on the word Professor, "why don't you stand up?" As he said this, Lucius pulled the vial from his pocket. Snape blanched, braced himself on the table, and stood. Felicity sat very close to Draco, pressing her knee against his under the table. _I'm scared_ , she tried to communicate. He pressed back. _I know_.

"Do you care to tell me what this is, Severus?"

"Perhaps you could give me some context, Lucius. I'm not accustomed to identifying potions by sight at a meter distance."

"Of course, my dear friend. The Dark Lord told Felicity to show this to me from where she had hidden it among her personal toiletries. After feigning ignorance, she finally admitted under duress that you had given it to her to help her relax."

"That's all true. We both know she's young, and frightened. I'm not usually so sensitive, but I wanted to help her."

"Fine. Denying me marital pleasures is one thing, when you have such noble intentions. But could you tell us all what else this particular brew is known for?"

Severus cleared his throat.

"Some people believe that this sedative also has properties that prevent conception."

"And are you one of those people?"

"Yes."

For a moment Felicity forget entirely where she was, and shockwaves ran all over her. It took half a minute before she realized Draco had grasped her hand under the table.

"So you knowingly gave my wife birth control."

"Yes. To save you both from unwanted pregnancy."

"How kind."

"I thought so."

"Although, I do know someone else who might not feel the same way. Who might even punish you for an act of this nature."

"Lucius, please. Have we not been good friends? Don't do this. She'll stop taking it and everything will be fine."

"You're right that she'll stop taking it. Wrong that it will all be fine." Lucius dropped the vial, and when it exploded, Felicity felt herself shatter too. Next Lucius stretched out his arm, making to touch his Mark. It was then that Felicity jumped out of her seat, wrenching her hand out of Draco's.

"No!" she screamed. Everyone froze, and stared at her. It had been a long time since she had raised her voice above a whisper. "He said it doesn't matter! The Dark Lord said he doesn't care if I have a baby! Everything can be fine, we don't have to do this. I can keep taking it and we can both be happy. Don't you want to be happy, Lucius?"

"What is she talking about, Lucius?" Severus asked, his eyebrows raised, voice low.

"I have no idea," Lucius answered, staring at her with probing eyes. "Sometimes Felicity makes things up to protect herself, though. Is that what this is, Felicity?"

"No, I promise." But her strength, mustered in a moment of fear, was waning. "I know what he told me."

"Why would he say that, Felicity? Why would he tell only you, the girl he won't even trust with a wand, one of his deepest secrets? And then why would he ask you to show me this, if that was true?"

"I…"

"So maybe he didn't tell you that?"

"Maybe…" Felicity was starting to forget again, that impenetrable fog creeping back. "I think he did, though. I don't know."

Lucius lifted his hand above his left arm again, and Felicity made eye contact with Severus, who looked more terrified than he ever had. She charged around the table, grabbing Lucius's arm and pulling it down. She worked her hand down to his, and interlaced their fingers.

"Lucius, let's take this as an opportunity." She stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him very deeply. Behind her, she heard Draco cough. Then she reached up and pulled his head down to hers, whispering in his ear. "Let's go to bed right now," she said. "We don't have to fight. We don't have to punish anyone. Let's go, and you can see what I'm like without the sedative. Won't that be nice? I'll do all the things you ask for, I promise. Anything, anything." She was pressing her body ever closer to his, and squeezing his hand tighter and tighter. Around her, the air was crackling with still tension. "Please, Lucius, I want to show you what my body can give you. We can make a baby. Please. Let's go forget this. Severus will leave, won't you Severus?" She turned her head to her old Professor, cheek still pressed against Lucius's chest, hands still on him. He looked back, shocked, for a moment.

"Oh, well, yes. Of course," he stuttered. "I'm gone." He looked at Lucius for confirmation, but he was still staring down at Felicity, amazed. Severus took that as a cue, and made his flight. Draco followed close behind, muttering something about needing to take a shower. Felicity backed away from Lucius, leaning against the table. She was breathing very heavily, chest heaving. He stepped back towards her.

"I hope you meant all those promises, little girl," he said. "Because we're about to go test every one of them."


	4. The Great Plain

For a while, she just stood and stared at him, and he stared back. The room wouldn't be still, and she was the center point of its spinning. Finally, Lucius reached out and grabbed her around the waist. She whimpered.

"Please, Lucius, don't be mad. I didn't know what it was. This isn't my fault."

"Whose fault is it?"

She was silent at that. Severus's, she supposed, but to implicate him would be to undo everything she had just fought for.

"So it must be yours, right Felicity? You didn't show me this potion – you purposefully hid it from me. Everything else he gave you, I saw, and we talked about. If I had ever seen this, I would have stopped you right away. And then we really could have both been happy." He placed his hand on the back of her neck, and moved to stand behind her. When he leaned down to whisper to her, his hair brushed her ear.

"Let's go to the bedroom," he said, "so I can try to be happy."

* * *

Their bedroom was a crime scene by morning; broken glass from every potion Severus had ever brewed them, her shredded dress, bloodstains on the sheets. They slept almost peacefully next to one another, although Lucius kept his wand gripped tight in his hand.

Lucius hadn't really done enough to hurt her, despite all the theatrics. She would be glad the potions were gone anyway, he thought, and she'd get over one night of being pushed around. A little blood from a few fingernail scratches can look like a lot on a pure white sheet. It was just enough, he surmised, to say he had done something, if anyone asked.

Felicity woke up first, and despite feeling sore, and sticky, got out of bed straight away. She went to the bathroom and ran a blistering hot bath. Without hesitation, she got right in, and watched her skin turn red.

Lucius woke up when he heard the water running. He thought back to the time, when she had first arrived, that she had tried to drown herself in the bathtub. He thought about it, and thought about going to check on her. Instead, he rolled back over. _Let her drown_.

She stayed in for a long time; if the water got cold she would drain some out and fill it again. Finally, after she felt like she had sweated away any pain she could, she stepped out, feeling faint. When she went back into the bedroom, he was gone, and everything was clean again.

* * *

Felicity got dressed in an old dress with long sleeves and a high neck, one she used to wear when she had first arrived and no one cared how she looked. It wasn't very flattering anymore, but it was soft, and that was all she cared about. She straightened the bed, which was already straight, and then sat in the armchair for a while, running her fingers over the patterns in the upholstery. Eventually she got up and walked down the hall, passing Lucius's study. The door was ajar, and she could see him at his desk. Surely he heard her footsteps, and surely he knew they were hers, but he did not look up. She kept walking.

At Draco's door, she knocked. He called for her to come in, and when she did she saw him sitting, just like his father, at his desk. It was cloudy outside, and the only light came from the lamp at his side.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He turned in his chair, surprised that it was her. Never before had she sought him out in his room.

"Writing a letter."

"To whom?"

"A girl."

"Oh." She hesitated, holding the door frame. "Can I lie in your bed?"

"Yes."

Felicity went in, and climbed under the covers, burrowing deep.

"Just wake me up when you want me to leave," she murmured, already half asleep.

When she woke up, it was dark outside, but the lamp was still burning. Someone was knocking. She hid her face under the comforter. Draco got up, and opened the door.

"Have you seen Felicity?" she heard Lucius ask. Draco must have pointed at the lump in his bed, because Lucius cleared his throat and continued. "Leave her there then, if you don't mind. She'll come out when she's ready." The door shut, and the voices moved to the other side. Felicity could hear Draco, clearly upset. Lucius didn't say much. Then the door opened and shut again. The lamp turned down, and someone laid down next to her, on top of the covers.

"I wish I could save you, Felicity," Draco said. She opened her eyes and poked her head out. He was lying on his back, hand behind his head.

"Do you think we'll ever see Severus here again?" she asked.

Draco chewed on this a moment.

"Yes. He's been around my entire life. He and father have both failed before the Dark Lord before. They've screwed each other over, even. He'll be back. Eventually it will be as if nothing had happened."

"Will the Dark Lord be upset with them?"

He glanced over at her, and then looked back ahead quickly.

"He is upset," he said shortly. "He has seen them both."

"Oh. Draco?"

"Yes?"

"You must…it must have been awful when your mother died."

"It was."

It was a good thing they couldn't see one another in the dark.

"It's my fault," Felicity said.

"I used to think so. But of course it isn't; it's my father's. He made a bad choice a long time ago, and we've all been suffering since."

"So you don't believe in the cause?"

"I don't know. I really don't know anything anymore. All I can tell you is that when you leave this house, it's a nightmare out there, and being on our side makes it a little less awful. And it's hard to forget how you're raised."

"I did."

"And look at how it all came out in the end." There was a hard edge on his words.

Felicity sat up, and rubbed her eyes.

"I should go back to my room," she said.

"Do you really want to?"

"No. But I have to."

"No you don't, I know you heard what he said. I'll go sleep in your old room if you're comfortable here."

"You don't understand, Draco. I have to be with him. You don't understand. And he's done with his cruelty for now, I can tell."

She got out of the bed and smoothed her hair and skirt, trying to stand up straight and wincing a little.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for letting me rest in here."

* * *

Lucius was already in bed, propped up and reading. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked. She was still standing with her back pressed against the door.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I really didn't know what I was doing."

"I forgive you," he said.

* * *

"People think I don't know what happens in this house when I'm not here," Voldemort said.

It was Friday night, and all of his most loyal were gathered around him. Four were staring very pointedly at the table.

"But I do know. When will you learn that I know everything? My mind is even more vast than you can comprehend. I can be many places at once. Including, Lucius, in your young wife's mind. A place perhaps you should visit more often."

Lucius cleared his throat, but did not move. Voldemort continued.

"Let me tell those of you who were not so lucky to attend the show what happened last weekend after I understood what Felicity had been concealing. It was revealed, by a spitting mad Lucius, that our own Severus had been supplying Felicity with contraception, in the form of a sedative which she kept hidden among her personal effects. Lucius allowed Felicity to use her wiles to dissuade him from taking any real action. She put on quite a little performance for the three of you, didn't she Draco?" Draco didn't budge. "So whose fault is this? Severus's, for supplying her with the potion? Lucius's, for not keeping a better eye on his house? Or Felicity's, for lying to her husband? Lucius, you determined who should bear the brunt of the punishment, didn't you?"

Lucius nodded, very slightly.

"Who was it, Lucius? Tell us."

"Felicity."

"Yes, so you took it upon yourself to put her through hell. Very good, Lucius. You've done half my job."

"My Lord, please."

"Oh no, Lucius. Let me help you. You did such a good job with her, but I think such a transgression such as this has earned our girl just a little more suffering. Don't you think, Severus?"

"I should be punished, My Lord," Severus said, finally tearing his eyes upwards. "It's my turn."

"I think it's everyone's turn, Severus. I think you will all feel punished enough after what you're about to see. You too, Draco. Why didn't you tell me what you had seen? Surely you understood there was more punishment to be given out for such a thing as this. You really should have come to me, told me Severus walked away unharmed."

Draco stuttered out some kind of response, and Felicity thought she heard Voldemort laugh. She was far away by then, dark tunnels surrounding her vision. She wasn't even aware that she was digging her fingernails into Lucius's leg under the table, or that her lips had parted slightly, revealing bared teeth.

"Stand up, Felicity." She didn't.

"I told you to stand up." Those who could still bear to look at him saw Voldemort draw his wand, and point it at her. Still, she didn't move.

"I know you're scared," he said, clicking his tongue. "Let me help you." Her chair flew out from under her, and her knees locked, forcing her to stand. In the same motion, her head snapped up, hair falling out of its bun into a tangled web. She felt all her joints lock, in the same way her knees had, immobilizing her completely. Then with the slightest twitch of his wand, he levitated her up above the table, skirts falling away from her body. Her head fell back, and she opened her mouth to scream.

She didn't have time before he uttered that one terrible word.

Minutes passed. Her cries quieted as her breath ran out, and still he went on. Eventually, he let her fall back to the table, and with the thud she made, Severus jumped up.

"Please, Master," he yelled, "punish me the same way. Or worse. I deserve worse. I disobeyed you, and I tricked Felicity. She has done nothing to deserve this."

Felicity hadn't moved, although he had given her control of her body back.

"Are you telling me I have made a mistake, Severus? What a bold thing to suggest."

"Not a mistake, My Lord. I apologize if it sounded that way."

"Then what?"

Sweat was beading on Severus's upper lip. He stole a glance at Felicity, and saw the tears spilling from the corners of her eyes into her hairline. Lucius still hadn't looked up at her, hands gripping the table before of him.

"I apologize, My Lord," Severus said again, and took his seat.

Draco was staring at his father in disbelief, mouth open. Once upon a time, he had considered his father a soldier, someone who would fight for his family, and for what was right. Now…

"Let us move to the next order of business," Voldemort said, and no one spoke about it again. Felicity remained where she was for the duration of the meeting. When it ended, he asked for the three men to stay behind.

"How does it feel," Voldemort asked, "to see her suffer for your sins?" And then he was gone. Lucius rose and moved to her, pushing her hair out of her face.

"You are a coward, Lucius Malfoy," Severus said. "She is a child, and you are a coward." Snape went to pick Felicity up, but Lucius pushed him away.

"No. Do not insult me in my own home, and then try to take over my duties. Draco, what are you gaping at? Go to your room, this is none of your affair." Lucius lifted Felicity easily, and she stirred a little, turning her face towards his chest. "And you," he said, looking at Snape, "you might as well go with him, for how chummy you've become."

They left, slamming the door behind them. The sound echoed and echoed, and Felicity squeezed her eyes shut tight as it rang in her ears.

* * *

When he laid Felicity back in their bed, he took her hands and rubbed circles on her palms with his thumbs. She still had not spoken.

"Good girl," he said, kissing her forehead. "You were so brave."

Her eyes opened, and there was hatred etched in them.

"I'm going to get you dressed for bed," he said, already taking off her jewelry and placing it on the bedside table. "And then you can sleep as long as you'd like."

Soon she was tucked in. He had even done his best at braiding her hair. In another life, it would have been sweet. He went to the bathroom; she heard the shower run. Felicity took the time to flex her muscles. Pain rolled through her body with each movement, with each twitch of her finger or flex of her foot. She shifted her head to face the other way, and though she would die of the hurt.

When he came back and got into his side of the bed, she rolled to face him, eyes still glinting with some inner strength he had thought long extinguished.

"What do you tell her about all this?" she asked. "Is she proud of you?"

"Tell who?"

"Narcissa."

He took a deep breath, and reached over to blow out the candle by the bed. Settling in, he turned his back to her.

"Felicity, Narcissa is dead. I can't talk to her."

"You do talk to her. Every day when we're laying here and you're holding me, I know that you're praying she doesn't see us. And when you're in your study staring at the wall when I come and get you for dinner, I know you're trying to apologize to her. I'm not stupid. I know." She was crying a little. He heard the sheets rustle, and felt the weight on the bed shift. She was sitting up, legs swung off the edge.

"I'm not stupid," she said again.

He turned his body back to hers, and reached out to wrap his hands around her waist, pulling her back.

"You're not stupid," he said.

* * *

Felicity woke up with a start. There was magic running through her veins.

She was aching, body calling out for something it missed. Her mind felt clear, and empty, and needy. Felicity could feel the inside of her head, that stone walled chamber, finally being opened again. The cobwebby corners were gone, and the fog had gone with them. The papers and clothes and empty bottles that had cluttered the floor were gone too. In the physical world, she felt light, as if her bones were hollow, or maybe her organs had been replaced with air. She reached out across the ocean of white and placed a hand on Lucius's chest. He stirred.

"Wake up," she said, pressing against him.

"What is it?"

"Wake up."

He opened a bleary eye, and when he focused on her face, ablaze with an unknown spirit, he opened the other.

"How do you feel?" he said, starting to get up in a hurry. He had assumed when he put her to bed that she would sleep through most of the day.

Felicity didn't speak, but rather moved to him, placing her lips at the base of his neck. Lucius's breath caught. They were glowing in the earliest dawn. It could have been that they were carved from marble, and left there for a thousand years to wait for this moment.

"I can't have what I want," Felicity said, "but at least I can have you."

God, how he hated her. His burden to bear in a world full of burdens, his worst enemy lain beside him in his own bed.

But her hand on his bare chest, her lips touching his most sensitive skin…

"I don't think this is a good idea, Felicity. Think of the night you've had. You may be hurt."

"You've never worried about hurting me before, Lucius," she whispered into his chest as she worked her way downwards. "Please don't start today."

She stopped just short of the line of his underwear, and returned to look him in the eyes. For once, he was speechless in her presence.

"I'm empty now," she heard herself say, overtaken by the sparks that were prickling at her fingertips, and the heat that was flowing, lava-like, through her veins. "If I were you, I would take advantage of the plain that is my mind, before I build a wall around it."

She moved one leg across both of his, and dipped her chest down to meet him, gently opening the front of her nightgown to expose palest skin. The kiss she gave him then was untouchably beautiful, and as she pulled away she sucked in air like it was her first breath. Felicity tossed her head back, and ground down onto him. Through many layers of sorrow, something changed.

Lucius breathed out her name, and his voice cracked sweetly in the middle. She left her hands on his torso, rocking back and forth still gently, still chastely.

"Please," he said, barely audible, and the corners of her mouth turned up. For once, she had him.

Dawn wasn't the right word to describe this time of day. Light was just staining the farthest edges of the horizon, waiting to turn their whole world pink. The air in their room was shimmering as their slow exploration continued; Felicity hadn't felt waves of magic this way since Ollivander had handed her that very first, perfect wand.

"You know my world is too small, don't you? It was only a matter of time before my mind bent the bars of its cage." This even as she finally pulled her nightgown over her head, and as he finally was able to put his hands on her bare skin. He reached up to cup her breasts, and thought he had never felt anything as luxurious as their softness. Even the slight pressure of his fingers felt like he was gouging holes into her flesh. She adored it.

"What do you want, Felicity?" he finally asked. "Tell me. Let me give you what you want."

She thought of all the things there were. All the places one could put their fingers, their mouth. Where he could put himself within her.

She decided. Now the corners of the room were starting to catch the light. Their pupils were shrinking as the sun peeked in, and suddenly the stakes felt high.

"I want you to kiss me," she said, rolling onto her back, "for a long time, like you kiss someone you might care about. And then I want you to drag your fingers down my sides, and pull my underwear off, and I want you to make me come. I want to scream out the end of this suffering."

He was already hovering over her, straining at his own underwear. Dutifully, he leaned down, and she raked her nails through his hair.

"It's never been like this," she said.

"No," he replied, "it hasn't."

"Are you scared?"

He kissed her.

"Are you scared?" she asked again when he pulled away, only for a second, to position himself more directly above her.

He kissed her again, longer this time.

"Are you scared?" she asked once more, gasping for air as he dragged his fingers down her sides, and pulled her underwear off.

He kissed her in the new place he had found.

Her mouth fell open. Bright morning light shone through the arch of her back, and it illuminated his flaxen head. As the sun crested the horizon and blinded her, she had no more questions.

* * *

When he woke again, Felicity was gone. It was unusual for her to wake first, much less leave the room without his guidance.

He rolled over and rubbed his eyes. Felicity was right; Narcissa was printed on the back of them. She always was, although he tried his best to never notice it, to stay awake long enough to blink her away. Everything reminded him of her – the tea set, the coverlet on the bed, the stacks of magazines in the sitting room that he couldn't bear to throw away. When would it stop? When would he stop seeing her face embossed in the grain of the dining room table?

These were things he had stored away, afraid to take them out lest he should weaken, and show those around him that yes, he too was suffering at his Master's hand. Remembering hurt, and felt like rubbing salt in a wound that couldn't possibly heal. It was best to leave at it was, open, and clean enough, and try to ignore the stinging.

It wasn't until long after the sun had made its crest in the sky that he eased out of bed, and went over to the window. He looked down at the back terrace, and saw Draco and Felicity leaning against the stone railing, looking across the gardens. Felicity looked different, even from the back. She was standing up straight, and her hair looked tame compared to its usual wild state. She must have taken care with it that morning; she must have been in a steadier state of mind than she had been in a long time. He thought that she and Draco looked well together there, and the thought crossed his mind that in another world and time, they would have made a handsome couple. He left the window.

* * *

When they heard the door open, Felicity and Draco turned. When they saw it was Lucius, they both turned back.

He approached them, and put his hand on Felicity's lower back. She shied away and stiffened. He cleared his throat.

"Draco," he said, "leave us please."

Draco turned to go, but Felicity grabbed his wrist.

"Stay," she said. "Lucius, I would prefer you didn't say anything to me that you don't want Draco to hear."

"Felicity, maybe I should go," Draco said.

"No," she said, looking steadily at Lucius, hand still on Draco. "Here is all that needs to be said: we are going to be a family now, a real one. The three of us live together in this house, and as far as I can see it there is no way to escape that fact. We are just going to have to stick together, and survive. Civilly. Later, Lucius, you and I may discuss what that means for our private life, but right now, we will sit here and we will have tea."

Indeed, a house elf was already setting up the tea service on the table behind them.

"It's been a long time since we've taken our tea out here," Lucius said, not making any moves to sit. Felicity had not stopped staring at him since he had come outside, and her frank gaze was unsettling him.

"Be that as it may, it's a beautiful day, and I don't care to go back indoors," she replied coolly.

She had released Draco's wrist, and he was already sitting down.

"Father," he said as he put his napkin in his lap, "why are you making this harder than it needs to be?"


	5. Hope is a Dangerous Thing

Draco shook his head at her when she asked about life outside the gates. Severus, who snuck around visiting her only when Lucius wasn't home, looked exhausted all the time. Lucius was short with her. Was there going to be an after? Was there a world without Lucius?

Time settled into a rhythm again, her birthday seeming to come each year to show a new world had arrived. Felicity was 19 and showing the signs of womanhood more strongly now, although you would still be a fool to say she grown beyond a teenager. A little line was forming between her eyes, only there at night by the light of candles, and weight settled differently on her frame. On nights when they found each other, Lucius delighted in this. It finally felt that she was meant to be there when he could grasp her and feel her solidity press back against him.

Urgency had gone from their coupling. Once there were no more tricks being played on either side, they became like a normal married couple, sometimes in the mood, sometimes not. Sometimes able to finish, sometimes not. The Dark Lord had said he didn't care what happened to them, and yet somehow it still had not released either of them from their ties. There would always be nights when Felicity needed to be held, and mornings when Lucius woke up hard, and there was no one but themselves to address these needs. Once the source of their torment, sex was now the one thing they shared openly.

* * *

"Felicity, come in here please," Lucius called out of his study one night as she walked by.

She presented herself. Lucius was standing with one hand in his pocket and the other on his desk.

"Yes?" she asked.

"What do you think of this room?"

"It's horrible," she said flatly. "It looks like a closet."

"It is a closet."

"I knew the window was fake," she said, satisfied with herself. "There are 7 guest bedrooms you could have, at least. Or just use the library."

"You've made your opinion very clear," he said, sinking into his chair.

"You asked for it."

"Ah, well, I just wanted to get you in here." Lucius's eyes gleamed and he lifted up the bottle of scotch that apparently never left his side. "Don't look so put off. You're old enough. You've nowhere to go." 

Felicity was suddenly feeling shy. She approached the desk and rested her fingertips on it.

"You cut me off drinking last year."

"I've changed my mind." He gestured at the chair across from him, a hard wooden one.

"I see you spared no expense on the furnishings either. This chair was obviously stolen from the Hogwarts library."

She didn't flinch at the hard taste of the alcohol; very few things hurt anymore.

Lucius watched her take a few sips as his own set in, calming him.

"What do you think of our life here, Felicity?" he asked her.

"I think it's very foolish," she replied baldly. "And I think I'm infertile. All that fuss over a potion and nothing has happened yet anyway. I'm sure I was broken that day in the dining room, Lucius, and a proper Healer never saw me."

Lucius had been thinking this as well; for how quickly she had gotten pregnant before, it had now been well over a year of trying again.

"Did you ever want children?" he asked, hoping he hadn't betrayed agreement. He didn't want to frighten her.

"Yes, of course. When I arrived here I had barely outgrown dolls. And there were boys at school who I admired. Who liked me back. I had all the simple hopes of a girl."

"It sounds like your feelings have changed."

"They have and haven't. It makes me sick to think of a child growing up with parents like us. That's all that's changed, really."

"You had an unhappy childhood. So did I. We both wanted better for our children."

"I think Draco has better," she said, smiling very barely.

"He had better. Now he is the same as the child we don't have. Trapped here, with dysfunction in the master bedroom and war outside."

"Draco is an adult, though." There was longing in her voice. "Draco will leave when he wants to."

Now Lucius smiled.

"Draco will not leave until something changes. He'll bring a wife here if he has to. He is watching you, or perhaps you’d say he's watching me. But his concern for you won't run out."

* * *

Lucius was on the ladder in the library. Usually he could summon books as he liked, but something he was looking for wasn't responding and he was having to dig quite deep into a stack to see if he could free it. He heard footsteps, and turned only just in time to see something flying at him, and duck.

"Merlin's sakes, Felicity!" he shouted, sliding down the rungs. She was standing in the doorway, panting.

"Take your fucking Arithmancy book and shove it up your arse!" she shouted back, and then stormed away.

Lucius stood startled for a moment in the stillness before pursuing her. He caught her a long ways down the hall; she was moving quickly.

"Whoa, whoa," he chided, getting close enough to wrap his arms around her from behind. "What on Earth is the matter?"

"That was a very funny gift, Lucius. Did you think I'd laugh to see that on my vanity?"

"Not really. I thought you'd read it. I thought you liked Arithmancy."

"I liked it when I could have it. Now I can't have anything. I'd rather read a book about a girl who marries a shitty millionaire and gets trapped in his castle. Something relatable."

Lucius released her.

"Go on then," he dismissed her. "I'll see you later."

And he turned, and went back to his digging.

* * *

Lucius had warned her he'd be out that night, and not to wait up for him. It was a lonely evening for Felicity, as he and Draco and Severus all seemed to have gone to the same place. Fighting, obviously, based on Lucius's outfit and expression upon leaving. _Who decided these things?_ she wondered. When was there a battle, and when was there only placid home life?

She awakened to gentle touches on her hand; in the early morning light, she thought she was dreaming it. But then she opened her eyes and Lucius was there, crouched beside her.

"What is it?" she asked. Something was obviously wrong for him to be still in his dirty clothes instead of showered and crawling in beside her.

"Felicity, I have to tell you something." He looked very grave.

"I can suppose that by the way you're acting."

Lucius bent his head and kissed her hand, and then placed his chin upon it to continue speaking.

"Your parents were killed last night, Felicity."

She shut her eyes tight, willing herself back to sleep. But nothing changed. His head stayed there, and when she opened her eyes the same solemn ones looked back.

"Their bodies?" she whispered, and he shook his head.

Could she make herself care? Lucius was watching her carefully, apparently eying for the same thing she was questioning herself over.

"Who did it?" she asked.

Lucius was prepared for this. He didn't even hesitate as he shook his head.

"I don't know," he said, imagining away the face of the boy from the cellar. The boy who, he thought, must have heard Felicity's name and voice float down the stairs hundreds of times as they were both kept in captivity, although she had not known he and the others were below her feet. The boy who was seeking vengeance still for the one they had left behind.

"I couldn't blame you for feeling nothing," he said.

"I feel something," she replied. "I don't know what it is yet."

* * *

So the world outside grew smaller. Now there was no other home to go to, even theoretically. Lucius left her to rest, dosed again with the same sleeping potion she had relied on so many times before. He was gone from the house when she woke in the late afternoon, but it seemed Draco had sensed that she would need someone, and appeared in the doorway.

"Now you know what it's like," he said, and she laughed. No one but Draco could have said this to anyone but Felicity.

"But it's twice as bad for me as it was for you," she shot back, and he laughed as well.

"No, it's not," he replied. "I actually liked my mother."

In this world they had created, this conversation was perfectly normal, expected even. Dead parents had simply become a part of what was considered usual. There was no ceremony surrounding it, no extended sadness.

"But I am sorry, Felicity," he went on. "Where's Father?"

"He didn't say," she replied, settling back into the pillows. "Something more important, I'm sure."

Lucius returned before the sun went down, bringing with him gentle kisses and the promise to stay with her the next day.

* * *

"I guess am a wealthy woman now," she said calmly over breakfast. "But what will happen to my money, the things, the house? I should have to produce myself at the Ministry to take ownership of them."

Lucius grimaced.

"I have taken care of it," he said.

"How?" she questioned. "On paper we're nothing to one another."

"It is taken care of, Felicity. The money is in your bank account; I have the keys to the house."

"But –" she began, but he overruled her.

"Every pretense of bureaucracy left is just that, a pretense. I filed the papers myself. I walked behind the counter and I filed them, and no one dared question me. Do you understand?"

She nodded, eyes wide at being rebuked.

"When the war is over, you can go and see it all for yourself. The bank vault, the house, everything. I'll let you keep the keys. In the meantime, as always, you can ask me if there's anything you want. _Is_ there anything you want? Do you want to go to the house? It can be secured enough for that."

"No," she said, closing her mouth very tight.

But later, as they lay on the couch with her head on his chest, she spoke up.

"Actually, there is something I want. A gold chain of my mother's. It must have been at least 3 feet long, with pearls spaced perfectly along it."

Oddly enough, Lucius knew which necklace she meant. Narcissa had been envious of it.

"I will fetch it for you. There is nothing else?"

"I can think of nothing," she replied bitterly.

* * *

The house where Felicity grew up was very different from the Manor. Large still, of course, and finely furnished, but less welcoming somehow, despite appearing as a very normal, rambling country home. There was the feeling with every step that you took that it might fall down around you. Lucius took great caution, despite knowing the occupants would never again grace the halls.

The door to Felicity's room stood open, and he hesitated to peer inside. Aside from having a large window, there was little about it that could indicate it would be a place Felicity would like at all. The bedframe was wrought iron, and the linens were dark. It would be a fine guest room, he thought, although it was a little sparse even for that. Imagining a child of any age there was impossible. There was a haphazard stack of things on the dresser that had obviously been removed from the walls after she had gone to Malfoy Manor. Ravenclaw pennants, magazine cutouts, photographs. There was one of her and the Lovegood girl on the dock at Hogwarts, arms around each other and smiling very broadly, and another of her beside Dean Thomas, a chilling sight to see in the house of the couple he had just killed. He picked these things up for a moment, holding them stupidly while he stood and thought, and then placed them back. She would not want them. She knew they were there, he knew she did. If they would bring her comfort, she would have asked.

The necklace was easy to find, hanging on a hook in her mother's closet. He spooled it around and around his fingers, thoughts passing as rapidly as each pearl went by. It was Felicity's house now, and she had asked for nothing else. Would she ever? The elves would stay there as long as requested, dusting tabletops that would never be served on again. It seemed like a waste, but there was no way to encourage her to sell it, nor really any reasonable way _to_ sell it, the property of a girl whom most assumed dead at this point. And she would never want to go there again, he was quite sure of that.

* * *

Arriving back rather late, he came up behind her at the dinner table and wrapped the pearls around her neck. Draco, sitting across from her, could see her triumphant smile as she reach up to touch them. His father bent down to kiss her, and whisper in her ear.

"Is this how stubborn you're going to be when I die?" he asked.

"Don't say such things," she replied, and he was shocked to hear that there was genuine emotion in her voice.

On their way to bed that night, she stopped him in the long hall where windows faced out to the back of the house.

"Am I terrible person?" Felicity asked Lucius. She had pulled him close so that her back was against the wall, and his hands were on her hips.

"For what?" he replied. "Felicity, I would say you may be the only good person left in this house."

"I can only gloat that my parents are dead. Truly. There is some sort of longing inside of me, I suppose, but I haven't cried once and I don't think I ever will. I only wanted the necklace because she was so proud of it, so sure even that her blood traitor daughter would never have it."

"Felicity, I can see you're about to cry now."

"But it's not about them," she said. He was right. Tears were forming. "Well, it is. But only because I don't understand. I don't understand why they never loved me."

Lucius bent down and kissed the wetness off her face. He was thinking frantically. She was too smart to believe platitudes, to hear that they had loved her in their own ways. They hadn't. They had cared for her as they were meant to; she had never wanted for anything. But there was a reason Narcissa had been so devoted to inviting Felicity over, to making sure she had a home, even if it was only temporary. The Greys had been ruined by the Dark Lord long before she had been born, an accident at a late age. They brought her up to be like them, or so they had thought.

All he could do was keep kissing her, and all she could do was let him.

"They were wrong, Felicity," he finally said. "You should have lived a different life."

"I wish I was born a Muggle," she gasped, and he couldn't argue with that.

Lucius had her pressed very firmly against the wall now, and her hands were wrapped in his hair at the base of his neck. Despite the solemn subject matter, he was growing hard at their closeness, her vulnerability, and he pulled back slightly in embarrassment, hoping she wouldn’t feel it. But Felicity's hands went down to his waist urgently, pulling him back.

"I want it, Lucius. Don't be shy." Her hands crept up the back of his shirt in encouragement.

Lucius fell to his knees before her, unable to wait.


	6. The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews if you're enjoying the story! I love talking about this one

"Did you love the Thomas boy?" he asked her.

Felicity's eyes flashed.

"It was never love," she replied. "It was…something. Something youthful. Obviously gone now. What do you know of it?"

Did she know, he wondered, that Dean had been imprisoned there? She hadn't seen him, the elf had stolen him away before she could, but Draco, or Severus, may have told her.

"I saw a photograph of you two in your bedroom when I went to retrieve the necklace for you. That's all."

"Then that's all it was."

* * *

There was no resolution between the night and the day. At night, Lucius came to her as easily as if she had been his first and only wife, and she received him as openly as if she had come there on purpose. Even sometimes at breakfast things remained pleasant. But then he would leave again, and he was now gone occasionally overnight, over two nights. If they ever crossed paths during the day their interactions were curt, biting, even.

Then one night, in the dark, he reached out and dragged a finger down her spine.

"I love you, Felicity," he said.

* * *

She was standing with Severus in the garden. It was a blustery, gray day, but neither of them cared. It was good to just feel the wind, and try to let it blow away their terrible luck.

"He said he loves me," Felicity said, looking away from Severus and hugging her arms around herself.

Severus's lips twisted into a strange little smile.

"And how does that make you feel?" he asked her.

"Sick to my stomach."

"Do you think he does?"

"Of course not. He knows I'm not sick with obsession for him anymore, and he wants to get his control back. If he can't own me, he has nothing."

"Have you considered that he's telling the truth?"

"I considered it," she said, "for about 15 seconds, until my head stopped spinning and I remembered where I was."

* * *

"Lucius, what do you think you're doing to that girl? Telling her that you love her?"

"I don't remember inviting you back into my home, Severus."

They had come together in the entryway, Lucius apparently on his way out onto the terrace, Severus on his way in.

"Felicity and Draco invited me; they've been pestering me with letters for weeks. As a matter of fact, I've been around a few times and you never seem to be here."

"Felicity isn't supposed to write letters."

"Oh, Draco does all the actual writing. They're very clever, those two."

"Yes, too clever. Very well, if the children want you here, you may stay."

"We weren't discussing whether or not I could stay."

"Weren't we?"

Severus turned and walked back outside with his old friend. Lucius was scowling, but that hardly affected Snape. They made it to the railing, and stood and stared at one another.

"How well did you know Felicity as a student, Severus?"

"Well enough. She was talented, and quieter about it than others in her class. She was good at Quidditch, she was friends with everyone but those she was supposed to be. Of course she never came to me for advice the way the Slytherins did."

"Of course not," Lucius murmured.

"You want to ask me something else."

"It's rude to use Legilimency on friends, Severus."

"You think so little of me, Lucius. I am glad to hear we may be friends again; know that friendship is the only thing that tells me you have more to say."

"Does Felicity know that that boy was kept here in the cellar?" Lucius asked, fretting.

"Dean Thomas?"

"Yes."

"Neither Draco nor I dared to tell her that," Severus said, turning away.

"I'm to assume then you didn't tell her about him and her parents either," Lucius went on.

"No, we did not. Maybe one day he will answer for it himself. Until then she should not be told."

"Because…"

"Lucius, you are acting very childish. Obviously you know they were in love, and yet you keep digging for answers as if you don't. We are not children on the playground. Why does it upset you? You have her now. How can you be jealous of a boy who you kept in captivity, who you conquered, who hasn't seen her in years?"

Lucius walked to a chair and sat down, and then put his head in his hands.

"I told her I loved her because it's true," he said. Severus stayed facing away. "It is not fair to her for me to have said it, but I did it anyway."

"Well," Severus began, "you have made a fool of yourself and upset her. If I were you, I would take that feeling and let it go to seed."

* * *

Lucius came back much past dinner that night, not expecting to find her awake. But there she was, lamp still burning, book open. He ignored her, and sunk into the armchair.

"I'm not going to be swayed by you telling me lies about your feelings, Lucius."

"I didn't think you would," he said, sighing heavily and keeping his back to her. "Please don't make me talk about it now, I'm just trying to get to bed."

"You are not getting into this bed until you very thoroughly wash all that dust off," she said, snapping her book shut. "I thought I had made it clear that I'm not a pawn anymore, but you seem to disagree. And I've had a lot of time to think about it while you've been out sleeping around in Diagon Alley, or killing Muggle-borns, or shining the Dark Lord's shoes. You will not push me around any longer."

He rested his elbows on his knees and stared out the window for a long time. She returned to reading.

"I don't sleep around," he said finally, softly. "You should know that, if anything. I never thought, out of everything, that you thought that of me. I am very loyal."

"What about when the Dark Lord fell, and you lied –" But he cut her off.

"I lied only to save my family, and this house, and my dignity. Didn't I serve him better out here than I would have in Azkaban, anyway? Didn't I do my best?" His voice was rising.

"That," she said, looking somewhat stricken, "I cannot speak to."

Lucius was staring at her now, having jumped to his feet in a moment of anger. Felicity was staring back, eyes large.

"I'm sorry to have upset you," she said. He deflated a little, and she began to notice that he looked incredibly tired.

"You didn't…it wasn't your fault. I'm not feeling myself."

"Oh." She paused, thinking about this. What did Lucius usually feel like? Felicity had started to take for granted that he probably felt nothing at all. "How do you feel?"

"I'm feeling," he said slowly, "as if I may be in over my head."

* * *

Draco and Felicity took the time unsupervised as Lucius was gone for increasingly long stretches to do a lot of things they weren't supposed to, primarily Draco letting Felicity use his wand as he tried his best to teach her what she had missed over her last year and a half of school. This wasn't going particularly well, and usually ended with Draco fixing something Felicity had broken.

"If I had my own wand…" she always tried to explain.

"I know," he always said.

The two of them were sitting in the grass, cross-legged and facing each other, after another failed training session. This time a whole row of shrubbery had toppled over as she sent an errant hex its way; now it was looking a little bit crooked despite Draco's best attempts at setting it right.

"I don't think Father will notice," he had said, tilting his head at a 30 degree angle.

Now they were simply picking at the grass, talking about their small world.

" I still feel 16, Draco. I feel like I need to study for my N.E.W.T.'s," Felicity said. "I don't want to get too much older, not here, not without…" She paused, grasping for a way to continue

"I think escaping may be the word you're looking for."

"A word you don't need to know."

"I may be more familiar with it than you think."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You look like Father when you do that," he told her.

"Do not say that."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well that certainly looks like him," she laughed. Felicity fell backwards onto the grass, staring at the clouds. She closed her eyes for a while, and when she opened them, everything was blue.

* * *

Diagon Alley was ugly now. Lucius had thought many times about relenting and bringing Felicity out, but it hardly seemed an improvement to go and show her a world as bad as the one she inhabited. She would not be pleased to see how dark everything was, how low the Dementors dared to come. Perhaps she’d enjoy shopping, but there would be a constant looking behind her, he knew that too. It would be very cruel, he told himself, to let her think someone might come from the back and rescue her.

He had come to go to Gringotts and see her vault. Everything should have been joined together now, the small amount she had before mingled with the very large amount she had after. With everything in order there he went about his own affairs, signing for Draco’s quarterly allowance to be transferred, inspecting the interest statements of various accounts, and taking out a large sum in a purse.

Felicity had so many things. Jewelry, furs, little incredible bits of magical knickknackery. He had brought her something at least once a week since the beginning. She was so gracious with it all, and yet it so obvious it never pleased her. He was growing desperate to do something that would make her think well of him.

Lucius passed a tiny storefront of adult items, tastefully advertised. He blushed to think of it. Felicity, beneath him, beautiful, glowing, hair spread around her…calling out to him, pleased with something new they had never dared to use before…he almost had to stop walking as it overwhelmed him. Why would these thoughts not let him alone? What kind of man was he becoming?

As he went on each store reminded him of a way he could spoil her. Dress robes for Felicity, lingerie for Felicity, great gilded books for Felicity.

He entered Quality Quidditch Supplies, remembering that she had never started flying again, even now that he cared little about their chances of having children. There were plenty of brooms at the Manor, but she had not flown in years and there were so many new choices. So many ways for a man to spend money on a woman. He gave Felicity's description as easily as if it was printed on his palm – her height, weight, ability. The man behind the counter looked puzzled at this, as Lucius had described neither Draco nor himself, but Lucius had become a master of studied boredom. Was there something odd about buying a broomstick for someone who didn't exist? He hadn't noticed.

The broomstick was produced and approved and wrapped, and Lucius used their Floo to return to the Manor. Felicity was not in any of her usual places: the library, the sitting room, the bedroom. He wandered stupidly until he glanced out a window and saw a wheaten head far from the house and walking farther. He went downstairs and waited for her on the terrace. It took a long time. Occasionally her head would bob over the hedges, and then it would go again, into the depths. Eventually she approached him.

"What is that, a gun?" she called out at a long distance.

"What do you know of guns?" he shouted back.

"What do _you_ know of them?" she replied.

"My life has not occurred entirely within these walls or even within our own society," he said to her as she climbed the stairs.

"Must be nice."

He presented the package to her and was pleased to see that she did smile over it, just a bit.

"So they're still making brooms," she said.

"Life goes on, I suppose. It makes people happy."

"This must have been very expensive."

"It was the most expensive one they had."

Watching her fly was suddenly wonderful. Years before it had been a stressor and a chore to supervise and chide her. Now there was beauty in watching her battle the wind and win.

"I was not lying, or playing a game when I said I loved you," he said steadily as she alighted beside him. "Severus told me to let it go, and I will now. But you may know the feeling won't change."

She barely glanced at him with a very troubled look in her eyes, and took off again.

* * *

Felicity yearned deeply every day for a confidant. During her first year at Hogwarts, she had been happy, happy really just to be away from home, but had seen she would hardly grow close with the other girls in her year. And then at the beginning of the next year, a very hazy sort of girl with giant blue eyes had asked to sit in her compartment on the train, and Felicity and Luna had rarely been separated since. Now she wondered what Luna could possibly say to this. Her best friend falling, seemingly, for their captor.

Draco would not do to have this conversation with; it would be humiliating for them both. That left only Severus, another strange choice, but what else was there? Bellatrix? She saw him waiting in the library one afternoon before a meeting and went to him. He rose slightly as she entered.

"How's school?" she asked, settling in a chair across from him. Severus grimaced slightly.

"I suppose it is the same. Not as it was before, but as it has been the past few years. There are not as many students, and even I cannot blame them for not wanting to learn. And how is your life?"

Felicity's lips immediately started to twitch at the question. No one ever asked her that.

"It's bad. Is there any other word for it?"

He shook his head.

"No, there isn't."

"Lucius told me what you said to him. To keep his love hidden. He told me he will now, now that he's said his piece. But I…"

Severus waited, although he feared greatly he knew what she meant.

"What if I did love him?" she finished, pulling at her eye with her left hand. Her wedding ring caught the firelight. 

Severus continued to sit quietly. He held his chin in his hand and stared past her shoulder.

"No one could blame you," he said slowly, "for loving the only man you had ever really known. A man who seems to dote on you as a father should have and who has been the father of your child. It's very common in these situations, I think, to feel love."

"But is that all it is?" she despaired. "A part of this situation? Nothing else?"

He had nothing to say in return; they sat in silence as the sun went down. Felicity was chewing on her lips; Severus spun his wand.

"Is Dean alive?" she asked finally.

"It's been years since I've seen any of your friends," he sighed. "He was alive two years ago."

She observed him through narrowed eyes.

"I hope one day there is a world, Severus, where you may tell me the truth about yourself."

"You will be disappointed," he replied simply.


	7. Cosmic Love

One morning Lucius took her hand and drew her down to the holly thicket. This time she sat on the bench and he kneeled before her, his head buried in her lap as he began to pour out the things that were forbidden to say. The Dark Lord appeared to be winning, but they had not seen Harry in years, The Order of the Phoenix was well hidden, traitors were suspected, battles were fought in the streets, Muggles were getting involved despite understanding nothing. Lucius wanted to give up. He had thought even of releasing her, of arranging something as best he could to get her out of the Manor.

Felicity's head spun. Nothing he said was a shock; she gleaned enough from forbidden glances at the newspaper and from talking to Draco and Severus. But to see him prostrate before her like this worried her. There was no other life for them at this point, especially as they were bound so decidedly together, each of them despised and distrusted where the other was not. Even for him to have formed these thoughts was dangerous.

"Lucius," she said, and she reached down to cup his head in her hand, "you're scared. Thank you for telling me all these things, for giving me the confidence of your wife. I will help you now. Of course you didn't mean anything against the Dark Lord. You're just scared."

His frantic eyes understood her meaning; she was doing her best to ensure there would be no punishment for this treasonous conversation.

"I don't want to go," she said, louder this time, as if perhaps Voldemort was standing only outside the shrubbery. "But it's touching of you to have finally thought of me in that way. We've both lost so much, it's not surprising you're struggling. You're weary. But think of how wonderful it will be when we win."

* * *

Felicity had understood for a long time that rescuing her was worth it to no one; Lucius or Draco or Severus would be killed for the betrayal, and it was a death mission for anyone else to try to come from the outside. At first she had wished bitterly for someone to take the risk, but once the worst was over and she could simply exist, she had realized how well it would serve her to be one of the only innocents left, regardless of who won. Felicity could be cunning too.

A cynic would have said Lucius's thoughts served himself, that they were yet another manipulation to stay safe when this war ended out of his favor too; they weren't. As much as he would have loved to keep her with him, he saw how futile it was. The scarier thought was winning, and imagining forcing her to stay there forever.

* * *

That night in bed, Lucius and Felicity were having gentle sex, truly a simple meeting of two people who trusted one another. As he rocked against her, she reached up and pulled his ear down to her.

"We will finish this war together," she whispered, so quietly he could barely hear. "Do not say any more against him. I am fine to remain. I want to."

Lucius nodded, breathless, into her shoulder.

"I do love you," he said. "I can't keep it to myself."

"I love you too," she breathed back. "I do."

He made a strangled noise and pushed harder against her, and she wrapped her legs around him.

“I wasted so much time,” he gasped. “We could have always been like this.”

“Oh God, Lucius.”

They were lost.

* * *

Severus was there in the morning, waiting for them at the breakfast table. Lucius and Felicity arrived laughing and with their hands on one another. He cleared his throat before they noticed him; the hands dropped.

"This is different," he observed.

"Be happy for us, Severus," Lucius replied. He was putting his napkin in his lap, his face returned to its normal stone. "Or did you prefer us miserable?"

"I preferred you both sensible."

Felicity blushed.

"Our sense remains, Severus," she replied. "Don't force us to be bitter."

"I came to talk to you, Lucius," Severus said, ignoring her.

"I can suppose that by you being here."

Felicity was already eating; she would not be run out of her own dining room.

"And I was hoping to find you alone," Severus went on.

"Then you should not have come to breakfast," Lucius said. He nudged Felicity's leg under the table; she hid a smile. "We'll go to my study after. Would you like anything to eat?"

* * *

"So what have you decided then?" Severus had found her in the conservatory on his way out.

"I've decided that I am a fool, and a prisoner," she said blithely. "Maybe I do only care for him because of circumstance. But I do care for him. It's not going away. He is kind to me, he loves his son, he has fears as any human being would. He is a man and I am a woman. May we not be in love?"

"The bar is quite low then. Perhaps I'll buy you a broomstick as well."

"Why do you act, Severus, as if you have been so innocent, and Lucius so evil? You're only lucky you were not asked to fill the same role. I've seen you do nothing to rescue me."

"You know, Ms. Grey, that I have done everything I could to help you."

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "Everything you did came at great cost to me. The only time Lucius was truly cruel, in fact, and the only time the Dark Lord punished me – those things were borne from your cunning."

Severus looked quite sour at that, although she was right.

"I apologize," he said. "I hope I haven't hurt our friendship. I only wanted to keep you…disengaged from him, I suppose. I thought it would make life easier for you when the war ended."

"But Severus," she replied, looking comically puzzled, "when the war ends I will remain here, will I not? As surely the Dark Lord will conquer."

"Again, you are right," he corrected himself. "Very right."

"As you've heard of my new broomstick, why don't you come see it? I know you well enough to know that toys still interest you."

"Yes, Felicity," he submitted, "I am still a little boy at heart."

* * *

"I'm going to have my hair cut short," Lucius called from the bathroom.

"Goodness," Felicity replied. "What could prompt such a thing?"

Lucius came in and laid across the foot of the bed.

"I'm going very grey."

"You could hardly call it noticeable," she soothed.

"I was thinking," he started, glancing cautiously at her, "that you might come with me."

"To your haircut?" Felicity's spirit changed.

"Yes. I've been thinking about it, and I'm not sure what we're hiding from at this point. You should be able to go out. With me."

"Oh, Lucius…I don't think…I don't want to be seen."

"Just for a haircut? Straight there and straight back."

"No, Lucius. When the war is over and things are…settled. Then we can go out."

Lucius saw that he had distressed her and crawled up to the top of the bed. She had been playful and he had ruined it.

"You swear it's not noticeable?" He brought her hand up to a strand of hair.

"I swear it," she smiled. "But do as you like. It will be interesting to see."

"I've worn it long since I left school. An eternity. I feel ready to be seen differently."

* * *

Lucius came home shorn the next day. What would it have been like, she wondered as she ran her hands along his newly rough head, to have been there? Why would he offer it now? Years earlier it had seemed unthinkable that she would go walk in public with him. Did people know? The Order did, she knew, as her friends had glimpsed her however briefly. Perhaps Snape told them of it as well. All the Death Eaters knew, of course; she saw them several times a week. So who did that leave? How much of the outside world remained blind to either side?

"Do you like it?" he ventured. She had been exceedingly thoughtful, and quiet.

"Very handsome," she affirmed.

"If you approve, there can be nothing else," he said, satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never thought about Lucius with short hair before but now I kind of like the idea. I'm assuming most of us are here because we're Jason Isaacs stans (or maybe I'm embarrassing myself by saying that lol), and I would definitely like to see his Lucius with short hair. I always thought it was interesting that Lucius didn’t necessarily have long hair in the books but Jason crafted him that way. 
> 
> I'm stalling a bit now, this chapter is kind of short. We're getting very close to the war ending which is where there will be a significant different in the plot from the Cosmic Love I published on FFN. I want to keep updating regularly but I'm also dragging it out a bit for my own gratification. Leave a review!
> 
> I am also doing my best to regularly update my story Be Careful of the Curse which is a Lucissa story that starts at the beginning of their relationship and holds very close to canon.


	8. The End of the World

One January day, Draco stopped in the library doorway and looked to her.

"Are you happy, Felicity?" he asked.

Felicity looked up, startled out of her book.

"Um…" Her new calm, womanly demeanor failed her. "Yes. I'm happy, but I could be happier. I think we all could be."

"But you feel safe?" he went on. He looked slightly frenzied. Felicity hesitated.

"Same as my happiness. Yes, I'm safe with Lucius. I'm safe in the house. But who among us is safe?"

* * *

Draco announced the next week that he had asked Astoria to marry him and that she had said yes and that they were going to live together. He had the flat in London all settled, he said, and he'd be gone very shortly, perhaps even the next day if he packed quickly enough. Astoria had already moved in. Felicity watched Lucius take the news, watched him stiffen and then try to smile, watched him hug his son and saw his face change over his shoulder.

"But you'll be here often?" Lucius asked.

"Of course," Draco replied, although Felicity saw him hesitate while his father wiped his eyes.

Lucius went to bed early while Draco and Felicity drank together over the dinner dishes. Just as she was starting to rise, slightly dizzy as she looked around herself, Draco gestured to her.

"Come with me," he mouthed, so softly she wasn't sure if he had used his voice at all.

So that was it. Draco was running. He would take her, and then what? She'd live in his guest bedroom, use a wand that wasn't hers, be hunted as he now would be. Be away from Lucius. Be pitied.

She shook her head frantically. Tears welled up and she fell back into her chair. Draco grimaced at this; he had supposed it, but it remained a disappointment. He went to her and lifted her up into a hug.

"Don’t cry," he said, aloud this time. "You know I'll be here often, as I promised. As the Dark Lord wishes. Let me walk you to bed."

* * *

Draco’s absence ripped Lucius apart. He did not visit or write as promised. He missed meetings with the Dark Lord. Wherever he was, he was now dead to them, an unthinkable circumstance to his father. Felicity did her best to comfort him without being explicit.

“I’m sure they have a Secret Keeper,” she whispered to him one night in bed. “You raised Draco, Lucius. He has taken precautions.”

"But he may be dead. He has never been away from me like this. Even at school, he wrote and we wrote to him. What is he thinking?"

"We shouldn't talk of that, Lucius. Don't assign him thoughts."

"The Dark Lord asks me about it constantly, prying about what I know. And I know nothing. What kind of father knows nothing about his only child's life?"

"Draco did it on purpose, Lucius. The things he hid were hidden for our sake. He loves you so much, Lucius."

* * *

Right as the world was beginning to turn warm again, Lucius and Felicity spent an entire night in the conservatory, a thunderstorm raging outside. The rain pounding on the glass muffled everything but the closest whispers. They had started there meaning to stargaze, but lightning was now illuminating two lovers spread on a blanket, blind to stars even before the clouds had arrived.

The only thing, the only place, in the world that mattered was the nape of Felicity's neck. Her thick coil of hair, the unnoticeable scar under her ear from babyhood. His fingers there, his thumb on her jaw. The universe of her freckles. Would he ever know it well, or would he always be this lost in her?

Lucius knew he had done nothing to deserve her curled against him, allowing his hand to drag farther and farther under her skirt. Yet she always allowed it – no, encouraged it – and whispered words like _adore, beloved, darling,_ to him as he went. He had the feeling it was fleeting. It would be treason to say the words yet he felt he was running a race with each day that passed – maybe if he ran a little faster, acted a little better, there was a world coming where he could keep Felicity.

"We'll go to the beach house this summer," he said to her. She was nearing sleep. "And I will lay with you like this every night on the sand. We'll swim until we're starving and then eat until we fall asleep in the sun. I don't know why I never thought of it before."

"Summer didn't feel like summer," she mumbled.

"No," he replied, "but I'm sure it will this year."

"Lucius?" she whispered. He was surprised she was still cognizant enough to speak.

"Yes, Felicity."

"Do you think about our baby?"

Felicity was clinging to him, her face pressed against his chest, so there was no reading her eyes. She must have felt his heart jump, at least, at the question, as he had not yet admitted to her or anyone that his mind lately had been filled entirely with memories of her pregnancy. He should have known to savor it, to worship her. And he should have released her when he had the chance then too, even though it would have meant his child growing up away from him. At least they would have grown up.

"I do, Felicity. I imagine a sweet girl like her mother. I long for her."

But then Felicity was asleep, having braved the last question it seemed there was left to ask.

* * *

Lucius awakened at his forearm burning, and when he sat up to grasp at it he saw movement in the hall. Felicity was still sleeping, curled in on herself. The clouds had blown away, and she was now drenched in moonlight. He stood and went to the conservatory door; Severus was there waiting for him, his robes torn and hair disheveled.

"Potter is at Hogwarts," he said without preamble. "The Dark Lord will be there within minutes."

Severus looked over Lucius's shoulder, alerting him to the fact that Felicity was awake as well and standing close by, waiting.

"We will see you there shortly, Lucius," Severus said, and nodded at Felicity, and swept away.

* * *

Lucius stood alone in his study, his hand braced through the handle of his bottom desk drawer, the locked one that he had pretended wasn't there since December over 3 years ago. Sighing deeply, he slid it open and withdrew Felicity's wand.

He joined her again in the foyer. Lucius had left her to dress alone while he ran this errand, telling her only that there were things left for him to prepare. She had mumbled as they scrambled to the bedroom that she didn't understand why she had to go, and truly he had no answer for her. He knew only that he would not leave her there alone when he felt the outcome of the battle so uncertain.

It was strange to see her in Death Eater's robes; they had long hung unused in the back of her closet, waiting for no one knew what. They didn't suit her and he was glad of it. He gestured for her to follow him out to the gates. She hadn't said anything since he had left the bedroom.

"Felicity," he began, pushing his shoulders back. He looked down at her, suddenly small and bewildered below him, for a moment, and then swallowed his next words. Instead, he reached into his pocket and handed her her wand.

"I only mean for you to protect yourself with it," he said, seeing that she appeared completely dazed. Static was rocketing through her body. She thought she'd fall over from the force of it.

"It will never be taken from you again," he went on. "I promise you that."

Lucius couldn't read her face. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if she was going to kill him and run, the way they had always assumed she would if given the chance.

"It's terrifying," she finally said. "To hold. It feels like my arm is on fire."

It might have been a trick of very early morning light, but she appeared different to him in that moment. None of her captors could have possibly imagined the toll being without your magic for years would take, and yet in a single moment it was illuminated to him. Lucius took her hand and yes, something had certainly changed.

He opened the gate and pulled her through to the other side. Out there, without all the wards, the world seemed harsher; was the wind louder? The air colder? Something felt different on her skin; perhaps the sensation of the world ending.

She felt him grip her hand even tighter, and the world blurred around them as they Disapparated.

* * *

In the forest, everything was still for the moment after they landed. Lucius did not release Felicity's hand; they laid on soft moss. But then she realized the forest around them was bustling people and beasts, familiar and unfamiliar, and soon Lucius had stood her up and brushed her off, and led her deeper into the fray.

The Dark Lord was not pleased Lucius had brought her. He did not know she had her wand, but her mere presence was a threat to him. She could not, it was decided with no one's input but his own, be a part of those who went to the castle. He requested that she stay at the Shrieking Shack with him, and Lucius could do nothing but submit. He left her with kiss, and disappeared into black smoke.

"Come then, Felicity," Voldemort said, when it was just her and Nagini left. "Let us see what we find inside."

She followed behind him, the great snake next to her. It wasn't too far of a walk out of the wood to the Shrieking Shack, which Voldemort easily unlocked. In a moment of gentlemanliness, he stood aside to let her enter first, Nagini slithering ahead as well. Inside, it was dry, and cold, despite the balmy spring air. All around her were broken things: shredded books, smashed mirrors, couches and chairs with their stuffing coming out. As the door shut behind them, she chanced sitting down on a chaise lounge in the far corner. A cloud of dust billowed up from the cushion.

"I'm sorry for what an ordeal this has all been for you, Felicity. Really, I am." She tried her best to look like she believed him. "But when this is all said and done, some amount of freedom will be returned to you. Maybe I'll even allow for you to return to Hogwarts; it's really going to be quite a different place when we've finished with making our changes. You can be queen of all you see, perfect and pure. Or perhaps you'd simply like to return home, and finally begin a family?"

The thought of that really made Felicity feel very lightheaded, and she had the fleeting thought that with just the two of them, alone, she could maybe try and kill him. Seconds later, she came to her senses.

"Whatever you wish, My Lord."

* * *

Over the course of the next hour or so, they didn't speak much. Felicity just sat, terrified, in her place, and Voldemort mostly looked out the window that faced the castle. Although it wasn't visible from where they were, the glow of flames was only increasing on the horizon. Nagini floated above them, apparently very comfortable in the bubble he had conjured for her protection. Occasionally, Voldemort would wonder aloud how the battle was turning, and she would mumble some reassurance.

"Severus will be joining us soon," he said, not turning to her. He said it as if Severus was coming over for a cup of tea and a chat.

Sure enough, Severus appeared not more than 5 minutes later, materializing a foot away from where Felicity was sitting. He turned to her first, and locked eyes.

 _You're being very brave_ , she heard his voice say in her head.

 _So are you_ , she tried to think back.

He turned away quickly, and greeted Voldemort, head bowed.

Then Felicity watched as the horrible conversation unfolded before her, and as she began to understand what was about to happen, her vision grew blurry. Panic rose up into her throat, until she thought she might die herself from lack of air. When Voldemort began to move Nagini's bubble through the air, Felicity rose, unthinking, and threw herself towards Severus. She was blasted back immediately, landing hard in the corner. She watched from the floor as the bubble covered his head, and she started screaming, unable to tear her eyes away. Voldemort simply watched, and once he thought the damage was enough, he went to her.

"Stop screaming," he said, "and come with me."

"Let me stay," she begged, unable to take her eyes away from Severus, who was beginning to still. Voldemort was offering her his hand, and she clutched at her chest. "Just let me comfort him, please."

"Get up," he said again, pointing the Elder Wand at her, "or you will suffer the same fate."

Although dying sounded like the best offer going, something very deep inside Felicity forced her to her feet. She reached out, and took his hand. They were gone in a suffocating vortex.

* * *

She watched, Lucius's arm wrapped around her, in frozen horror as Harry died in front of her. At that point, she felt entirely sure that nothing could be more welcoming than death. Lucius had to stop her from lunging forward, but once he had, he moved away, going to the boy himself. He seemed to examine him thoroughly, placing his hands on his neck and bending low. Felicity's breath was bated, although she couldn't guess how this could come out as positive.

"He is dead," Lucius said as he rose up, and fireworks instantly lit his face.

* * *

Of course there was chaos after Harry jumped up, and Felicity had never felt such a rapid shift in her heart. The world that had ended hours before was filled with hope again, and the feeling only grew when she glanced across the courtyard, now holding her wand unabashedly, and saw that Draco was alive. She pulled on Lucius and pointed to him, and within seconds they had all collided together, and Lucius was whispering something to Draco Felicity couldn’t hear. Draco smiled, and pulled them farther into the castle.

* * *

Amidst all the shouting, Felicity's skin prickled. Lucius was standing away from her, now fighting one of his own. She fumbled for her wand as she started to turn around, but she caught only a glimpse of the Dark Lord and a streak of light before everything was knocked out of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really hard chapter for me to write; basically I would have liked to time jump over all of this because writing battle-y stuff is not my forte and I didn't really like how I went through it in the first version either. However it is important and I'm so excited for the next chapters now that it's done.


	9. Lost in Time

She couldn't wake up. She knew she should, that she was wanted to, but every time she felt herself twitch, or take a seizing deep breath, blackness came rushing back. Felicity heard nothing from the world around her; not the vials clinking, not the sobs, not the muttered words. Maybe once she had been lifted, but that could have been a dream as well, or perhaps the first feeling of leaving the Earth. There was almost always pressure beside her, perhaps even on her hand, but she couldn't feel her hand, so she could know nothing for sure. And where _was_ she? Existing, somehow, enough to have thoughts but not to understand them, enough to feel touch but not to recognize it.

Lucius was sure he wasn't existing. Spending all his time in her room, sleeping only when it forced itself upon him, moving her gently, fixing her hair. Pouring little vials of sustenance fluid into her mouth and watching it dissolve on her tongue. Felicity was checked on twice a day by Healers, he twice a day by Aurors, making sure he was still where he said he was, and that Felicity was as well.

* * *

They had let him take Felicity to the beach house because she was going to die. Her first transfer from the Hogwarts Hospital Wing to St. Mungo's had happened without his advice or consent, although Draco had been allowed to go with her. Kingsley Shacklebolt had relayed this to him while he sat alone in a locked classroom; not a criminal, but not yet a free man. Perhaps Lucius's reaction was what started to earn him his freedom – for the first time in the memory of anyone besides his own Narcissa, he started to cry.

* * *

Harry told everyone repeatedly of what Lucius had done, and Lucius could not look him in the eyes when this was done in his presence. He felt he had done nothing, earned nothing. The reverbs of his bad actions showed everywhere he looked, and on top of it all he was now in possession of a beloved wife whose beloved friends would surely never forgive him for what he had done to her.

Within a day, though, he was allowed to go to her room at St. Mungo's, where Draco and Luna, with a huge bandage on her face, were already sitting. Healers milled everywhere, and an Auror stood by the door. Watching.

"What happened exactly?" he asked Draco, stricken in the presence of what could have easily been Felicity's corpse. Without a sound, Luna exited the room.

"The Dark Lord…he was angry. It wasn't a Killing Curse, but it was one of his last acts of vengeance. Something powerful. They said it's a miracle her body even resisted well enough to still be here. She should be dust."

"It's not a miracle," Lucius murmured, still too afraid to touch her. Too aware of the eyes of strangers. "She's like that."

* * *

So the Healers let him take her, not to the Manor but to the place by the sea she had loved as a child. One more move, they warned, was all she could sustain. Then they would wait.

But when Lucius lifted her to the Floo, he felt very much that she curled, however slightly, against him.

* * *

Felicity was not the only one who had been brutalized; Severus too had lived against all odds, saved by the children watching him from the Whomping Willow passage. Unlike, Felicity, however, Severus remained conscious through it all and accepted an invitation to stay with them when he left the hospital. He would need to regain strength in his own way, and Lucius had nothing left to give or offer to make up for what he had done to the world. A trip to the beach for anyone who wished to have it was the only place he could think to start.

* * *

Her hand flexing woke him. He was asleep with his cheek pressed against it, and when he lifted up in shock, she rolled over entirely, as easily as if she was just asleep, just dreaming. She even reached up and shifted her pillow. After marveling at her for a moment, he ran to the door and shouted for Draco.

"Typical," Draco said quietly, after the first shock wore off his face. Astoria had come running as well, and wrapped an arm around him, smiling. "So bloody typical of her."

She didn't move like that again for several days, and the house entered back into the same routine. Lucius restless, coaxed only occasionally by his son to shower or eat, and visitors floating in and out while he was off doing those things. There were very few people who were willing to come while Lucius was at her side. Harry and Severus would, but her other friends, professors, members of the Order…they couldn't believe she was still locked in his house. Lucius didn't know how Draco organized them, but he saw several people a day walk up the beach just as he made it to his own bedroom to undress. It seemed to him that she was being drawn away into a world he could never enter.

* * *

One day, after about a month had passed, Lucius managed to sleep all night, albeit sitting up in the armchair in her room. When he woke, Felicity was curled back on her side again. This time her eyes were open, unfocused and staring. He jumped across the room, grabbing her hand between both of his before he was even sure he was awake.

"Am I alive?" she whispered. Her lips cracked as she opened her mouth.

Lucius tried to reply, but all that came out was sobbing. He pressed his face against her hand, still limp in his. The sound of her voice, a sound he expected to never hear again, seemed to have released all the tension in his body.

"Yes," he finally gasped. "You are alive."

* * *

She started to get better slowly, very slowly, after that. In her first hazy days, they told her each time she woke where she was and what had happened, but when she opened her eyes next she had forgotten. She knew them all easily, one relief, at least, but Lucius worried himself sick over how she would feel when she was aware she was free. He had seen Draco and Luna speaking in whispers on the porch one day when they thought he was resting, and he had heard the words "to my house" spoken furtively while Draco shook his head, apparently at a loss. Would Felicity go? Had she already asked them for help in her drowsy moments of congnizance?

The last months he had had with Felicity felt very real to him, even letting him suppose in a fleeting moment that she might have _wanted_ a family with him, but the things he used to press down were now coming to the surface. Felicity had never been a genuine partner to him; she couldn’t have been. She was a smart girl making the best from the worst, and now the world was about to open to her again.

One day she stayed awake for several hours. Severus and Lucius discussed it on the porch as she spent her first minutes in months alone.

"You must tell her now," Severus said. "How would she feel if we kept it from her any longer than absolutely necessary?"

"You're right, Severus. But I'm sure it will kill me."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"I will tell her. But it won't make this go away."

* * *

Felicity didn't care. She told Severus that during her short time alone and alert, she had felt that the air was different, and that everyone seemed calmer. It was a relief, of course, but not a surprise.

"Lucius didn't want to tell me this, did he?" she asked Severus.

"Lucius is very concerned about you," Severus said. He felt awkward saying more. "It was too big of an announcement for him right now."

"Be that as it may, please send him up here."

Lucius arrived promptly, looking extremely nervous.

"Are you pleased?" he asked as he pulled his chair up next to her. She noted that he kept his hands clasped very firmly in his lap.

"You may hold my hand, Lucius," she smiled.

His hands stayed put.

"You're free, Felicity," he said. "Of course you'll stay here as long as you need, but you are finally free of me."

Instead she reached out one very fragile, trembling hand and placed it on top of his.

"I said you may hold my hand, Lucius," she repeated.

* * *

Eventually she began to sit up, to stay awake, to eat solid meals, and one day, one day in late June Lucius never forgot, she asked him to help her stand. He held her like they were dancing. 

"This feels very old-fashioned," she said to him once not long after as he helped her down to the porch. "Am I dying of galloping consumption?"

"Any old-fashioned thing I can do to keep you well," Lucius replied. He had not yet started reacting to most of her little jokes, instead remaining focused on her dosing, her strength, her hours awake versus hours asleep. He was distracted around her always.

Lucius settled Felicity in a rocking chair, and yes, she was right, it was very old-fashioned. She was wrapped in a shawl, her hair pulled back in the best way he could help her do it, wearing a loose dress that Luna had brought her as a replacement for all the gowns she had been kept in the past three years. She relaxed back easily while Lucius sat on forward, elbows on his knees.

"You're still so worried about me, Lucius."

He wouldn't look at her.

"And you won't sleep with me," she went on.

"No, Felicity," he said sharpish, "you are absolutely not ready for that."

"I only mean in the same bed. The way we did for 3 years easily, every night."

"It was not easy." He was having trouble keeping his voice down. "Was it easy for you, Felicity?"

He chanced a glance to her and softened immediately at the tears in her eyes.

"It was not easy, Lucius, ok? Yes, you're right. It was not. But I learned. And now you're making me unlearn something I don't want to unlearn."

Lucius pulled his chair closer to her.

"I was so afraid you would die," he whispered. "It wasn't even fear. They said you would. It was a certainty. That is what I learned, that life would be without you from now on. Eventually I thought it was good thing. At least you would be free."

"I am free," she said back. Her low tone now matched his. "Would you stop me leaving?"

Lucius shook his head. His hair had grown long again in her absence, although not long enough to pull back, and it shook with him.

"That's what I know now. I could leave and someday soon I will, for the day or overnight or even for days at a time. So I'm free. But I want to come back to where you are."

"I don't deserve it."

"Mmm," she replied. The conversation was over. "Take me upstairs Lucius, please, and be a husband to me."

So he relented, bundling her into his arms and carrying her up to bed, with her head pressed hard against his chest. Already he could tell what she wanted. It was so obvious with her; the little nuzzles and the not very subtle movement against him. He sat her on the edge of the bed and helped her undress, doing his best to turn a blind eye to the kisses she planted every time he bowed his head. Kneeling before her to remove her shoes took every ounce of strength he had not to lunge forward and kiss her stomach.

"There," he said when he was finally finished. "Now lay down and I'll be there in a second."

He took her hand and kissed it, and she gripped it harder as he pulled back.

"I'd rather come to your bedroom, Lucius, than feel like you're a guest in mine."

He swallowed hard. His bedroom here was an old servant's quarter, east facing and cramped. All the others had more worthy occupants. He had kept it up little and the bed was small. Felicity was sleeping in the large room, south facing with a sea view and fresh air and a very large expanse of linen for them both to share.

"Are you hiding something?" she asked playfully.

"No," he conceded. "Come along."

He sent some of the clutter flying as she entered behind him, and hastily straightened the sheets.

"You chose this over sleeping with me," she murmured as he guided her to the bed.

"There were people in and out every day and night, Felicity. People who were already horrified that you were with me at all."

"I think rather that this is you serving penance."

"Perhaps. Lay down, Felicity."

Lucius's bed was pushed up against the wall, and when he tried to lay on the left side of her she tutted and crawled over him.

"You can't change everything on me all at once," she chided.

He felt very stiff beside her. Felicity rolled over and he knew she meant for him to wrap his arms around her, but it felt impossible that he would. Wouldn't she snap in half at the touch?

The smell of her hair was intoxicating. She sighed and turned to him, and the part of her lips thrilled him.

"You are a very stubborn man," she said, and took his arm and pulled it around her waist.

It was like releasing a long held breath to touch her there. She was wearing pajamas instead of a nightgown, and being able to touch her skin so easily mesmerized him. Why had he never thought of this before, all those years with her in such old fashioned clothes? He spread his hand wide and she shivered.

"Is it cold?" he whispered, lifting slightly.

"I like it," she replied, and drew him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think of these two! This chapter is where things significantly diverge from the original on FFN. It's so fun to write. I had been musing on this chapter and finally decided to just throw it up. More to come as they navigate a new life!


	10. In the Beating Sun

Felicity was recalcitrant about going back to school. Lucius began talking about it almost as soon as she was up and walking around, but noticed quickly that every mention of it got only a mutter back from her, or a turn of her head completely away from him. One day he finally pried the truth out of her.

"Why do I need to go back, Lucius?" she cried. "I'm fine with you and Severus helping me learn."

"First of all, Severus won't be here in the fall. If you want his help you'll need to be at Hogwarts. Your friends will be there, and it's all set for you to finish in one year if you take extra tutoring. Why are you so worried?"

"I'm too old. Too weird. I just want to stay with you."

"Felicity, you know your friends are going back."

She looked up at him from under wet lashes.

"My friends aren't married. They aren't curiosities."

Lucius tutted at her.

"No one will treat you that way. Severus will kill them first."

But Felicity glowered back at him.

"There are so many children there now who have never seen me before and who will have heard only the rumors that their parents are surely spreading as we speak. The 7th years who will be in my classes weren't even taking electives when I left. Perhaps if it was only the people who've always known me…"

"There is no perhaps, Felicity. You are going."

Felicity burst into tears while he stood resolutely by, waiting to be asked for comfort.

"Why do you care so much? I thought you'd be happy to have me stay," she wept.

"You must have freedom, Felicity. I do not want to influence you with my feelings, beyond my wish that you spend your last year of school as you were meant to." Lucius was doing his best to remain stoic, despite his burning desire to gather her into his arms and soothe her. To let her stay as she wished. But there were things he needed to let go beyond his control; Felicity's future was one of them. Even he, so entrenched in her world, could see easily that she wasn't in a state to make these decisions herself. If he let her go on like this, she'd stay isolated for the rest of her life.

"You don't want me."

"I want you to be a happy, complete woman who doesn't forget where her wand is for hours at a time because she's so used to not having it. I want you to be able to work if you should ever wish to. I want you to meet other men –"

She gasped out at that, almost screaming.

"We're not married, Felicity, legally. You think you want to stay here forever now. But I need you to have explored more before I'm comfortable condoning that."

She left the room in a rage. At least, he thought, she was getting well enough to run.

Severus went to talk to her later in the day. She had been outside staring at the ocean for hours, never even glancing back to the house. He took her wand down to her; it had been lying on the kitchen counter, half hidden behind the bread box, all day. He was starting to help her with basic wand work, things that first years learn and with which she had long since been out of practice. It embarrassed her to fail so badly at simple charms again and again, and she only agreed to practice in the garden behind the house, even though there was no one to see her anyway.

Her condition was truly a rarity in the wizarding world. She wasn't a Squib, not even close, or even a mediocre witch. But who had ever seen someone deprived for so long of their wand and of their truest self? Her magic was unbridled, unrefined, occasionally shocking in its power. She felt crazed when she held her wand, afraid of what she might do. _Alohomora_ turned into a door blasted apart, and she had once put Draco into a Body Bind that took his father several minutes to remove. All three men continued to encourage her, to bring her wand to her when they found it discarded, to remind her they were unafraid of her. But it stayed a shame she couldn't shake.

That day, Severus sat beside her on the ground and poked her wand into an unwilling hand.

"Lucius does not want to upset you. But he's right."

"He has upset me," she said. Even though hours had passed, she was still sniffling.

"You and Draco are the only things left in this world that Lucius cherishes. He loves you, but he understands his duty. Structures like schooling exist for a reason – to finish us and lay us all on equal footing. He will be here for you when it's over. All he wants is to make sure that you _want_ to come back."

"I will want –"

"Let me be blunt, Felicity, as Lucius will not be. After a year away from him and away from the Manor, and around people your own age, you may not want to come back to him. I know you are smart enough to understand the effects of captivity on the brain, and I also know that you think your situation is different. It is not."

Finally she chanced a glance over at him. It was hard to see her face now, so gaunt and tired compared even to how she had been in her last months at the Manor.

"You and Luna will share a room alone together. You will be allowed to come home on the weekends, if you wish. We'll arrange the Floo in my study for it," he went on. "I'm afraid Lucius will put you on the street if you don't go."

"Fine," she muttered after several minutes of silence. She got up and brushed the sand off of herself, and stormed back to the house.

* * *

She and Lucius had started sleeping together in the master bedroom, now that she didn't need to receive visitors in bed. That night she went up alone, unsure of where he had gone during the day while she ignored him. She got ready and slipped under the covers, wishing fervently that he wouldn't bother her and wondering all the same where he was.

Footsteps came eventually. She had spent at least half an hour staring out the window at the starry sea, rubbing the hem of the duvet back and forth between her fingers. She heard him stop at the door, and hesitate.

"You're not sneaky," she called out, and he cracked the door open.

"I was going to sleep in –"'

"No, you aren't. Unless you are expecting me to leave forever tomorrow."

Lucius sighed relief and shut the door behind him.

"I'm sorry things came out too harshly," he said.

"You said what you meant."

"All I mean is that I will always be happiest to know that you've had the whole world laid out before you, and that you made your choices for yourself. I hope you know you'll always be like a…like family to me, regardless of your choice."

"That bad, is it?"

"What do you mean now, Felicity?" he sighed.

"You nearly said I was like a daughter to you."

"Is that bad?"

"It's bad if you're going to get into this bed with me now."

Lucius did get into bed with her then, although he stayed firmly on his side.

"I don't mean it like a pervert and that's why I didn't say it. But of course I am more responsible for you than a normal husband is for his wife."

"You just want to move on to some old, mean witch who believes the way you do."

"No. I want to be with you. But it's more than time for you to make the decision."

* * *

In the morning, Lucius found himself alone in the bed. It was late when he woke, and he crept to the window to see something that stilled his heart. There, in the deep morning sun, Felicity was standing with her back to him, and Dean Thomas had his face to the light. They were almost dots to Lucius, but it was undeniable that it was the boy from the basement on his beach.

The pair wandered away as Lucius watched, and he forced himself downstairs to breakfast. If he could do nothing else, he would appear normal, even as he chewed and chewed on the same mouthful of toast for minutes at a time without tasting.

Felicity came in, dazed, in after about an hour. The kitchen screen door didn't latch behind her, and she didn't turn to correct the error, even though the missed sound was so obvious. Her mind was buzzing with a list of transgressions that were new to her, those both done to Dean and done by him. She sat with Lucius at the kitchen table without acknowledgement.

"When did you find out he was coming?" Lucius asked over the Daily Prophet.

"I wrote to him yesterday afternoon. He could hardly wait."

"And what did he tell you?"

"Dean told me everything. We've never had secrets. He told me about his captivity and about my parents."

This finally got Lucius to put the paper down.

"You're serene about the whole thing," he observed.

"I don't see any use in anger now. What's done is done. He did it for love."

She looked at him hard then, searching.

"And what I did?" Lucius whispered under her gaze.

"For love," Felicity pronounced, "although I'm not sure whose."

* * *

If she had meant to make him jealous before she had to leave, she had succeeded. Felicity would go away a girl again, remade by a string of moments with her sweet past love. Lucius would go back to his empty house, alone.

In those last weeks of summer, life between the two grew extremely placid. It was natural for them to live together, sleep together, eat together. But the sun seemed to shine harder on them now. Felicity wore Muggle clothes and left her hair down, and she did not act so much like the woman of the house any longer. Lucius was reclusive, as the world outside no longer belonged solely to him. Once he had scolded her about how easy it was for him to walk into the Ministry and act exactly as he would. Now to be seen there would be unbearable. He submitted to her judgment and whims, and they did most things by her clock and her manufactured school days spent with Severus. He still desired her desperately, but he all but turned it off for show. If she wanted to kiss, he would respond cautiously. If she wanted more he could not stop asking her throughout if she was ok.

Felicity seemed to have no qualms about things continuing as they were, despite Dean coming now two or three times a week to walk the beach with her. Lucius bit his tongue hard each time the subject arose, feeling that it was very obvious that this was all abnormal, that he was being cheated on or at the very least misunderstanding the situation dreadfully. But Felicity always returned with the same charming smile and the desire to put her hand in his.

* * *

"Dean has helped her immensely," Lucius said, pretending to be unaffected, to Severus as he watched him pack to return to Hogwarts. It was only a little more than a week until Felicity would be going herself. "She hated me for saying she'd have to go back to school, and then suddenly he appeared and made everything ok."

Severus eyed his friend as he folded shirts into his trunk. This calm recounting of the situation had nothing to do with how Lucius actually felt, and Severus knew that well.

"I'll keep a close eye on her, Lucius. People who've lived through less trauma have crashed spectacularly as a result. It feels to me that she's putting on a façade – doing what we want to get away with what she wants."

"You know that isn’t how I feel about the matter, Severus. She doesn't need a minder. If she wants to move on, I welcome it."

"No, you don't," Severus replied, "but it is admirable of you to say so and to let her go. But that's not what I'm talking about either. I don't feel comfortable at all monitoring Felicity's relationships. I just mean that I wouldn't be surprised to see her start drinking or acting recklessly. I'd be in the bottle every day if I were her. She's about to have freedom like she hasn't lived in years, and she's about to lose you as her anchor."

Lucius was silenced by that. He'd feel like a little boy to ask the question, weak and self-conscious, but could it be true that he was that important to Felicity? Did she rely on him so much when he had though surely it was only her keeping his own head above water?

* * *

Felicity stayed in her blissful positivity until they went to King's Cross. Draco and Lucius took her together, and she could not have made it seem more that it was a normal family outing, and that she had no fears or misgivings at all. The only sore spot came when she grabbed Lucius to kiss him goodbye, and the entire platform seemed to still to watch. If Felicity noticed this, she said nothing, only next going on to grab Draco into a hug as the level of the voices around them raised again.

"You'll come home when you wish," Lucius said in their last moments. He had no idea what to do with his hands; hers were full of bursting satchels and her owl's cage. The crowd was crushing them forward towards the train, and he could see over Felicity's shoulder that Luna was fussing with the window, presumably trying to open it and call to her to hurry.

"Every weekend," she smiled, and then was gone.

It took Lucius a while to find Draco again as parents and siblings milled about with so much more to talk about than ever before.

"I want to go back," Draco said wistfully as things quieted and the steam cleared. They were walking slowly together, bound to be the last two people off the platform. "I want to do it right, without all the horrible things. She doesn't know how lucky she is."

Lucius's head snapped around.

"Draco, I think you understand how inappropriate it is to call Felicity 'lucky'."

Draco bowed his head and muttered an apology, although Lucius wasn't going to stay mad.

"Let's go get a cup of tea," Lucius replied, wrapping his arm around his son.


	11. My Pain Fits in the Palm of Your Freezing Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a long one!! There's a fun surprise for fans of this story at the very end

Dean sat down next to her on their first day back at Arithmancy.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked as he shifted his books about. There weren't too many people they knew left in this class; all the current seventh years hadn't even chosen the elective yet when they had last been at Hogwarts. Hermione was on Felicity's other side, and there were a few Slytherins across the room, but overall, very few people had returned to finish their NEWT in Arithmancy.

"Of course not," Felicity replied. It was admirable how reserved he managed to stay around her, his feelings controlled to the last.

"Great," he said, smiling broadly and leaning forward a bit so he could see Hermione too. "Not too sure how well I've kept up with Arithmancy all these years. Sort of fell to the back burner, didn't it?" And all three of them laughed in a way they had each thought they never would again.

* * *

It became a well-accepted fact among the students that Felicity Grey ( _Malfoy?_ they whispered in the corridors) and Dean Thomas were an item, having connected again as if nothing had changed at all. They were seen on the banks of the lake most days, and if it was too cold or rainy they were in an empty classroom, although always with the door open. Anyone with eyes saw how Dean's followed her. He traced her movements constantly, and his lips twitched at her smallest joke or toss of her hair.

The thing that no one could see at all was the enormous fear Felicity held tight inside herself. Each day it worsened as Dean looked at her more and more tenderly, and she thought of the consequences of what she was doing. If he ever reached for her hand she pulled back, and he just understood and understood and understood, because he was Good Dean Thomas. She had heard all the things that were said about the two of them, but all that was really true to her was that they were spending a great deal of time together. It was wonderful to have him back and wonderful to have someone close who knew, at least in his own way, what she had lived through. The reported gossip didn't understand the needs of captives.

The offer of the Floo in Severus's study was never taken up. The first weekend she had written with regrets to Lucius, telling him that she was so busy unpacking and readjusting, and then the next she wrote of a Quidditch match, and then after that there was no letter, none for weeks and weeks. Severus suspected it, based on how limited she kept their eye contact. He was learning of himself that he had started the semester hoping she would stay close with him, confide in him or visit for tea as had always been the norm between them at the Manor. But overnight she became distant, as if they had never known one another at all.

Severus and Lucius both understood that this was what they had agreed to, although when they had agreed to it the idea of losing Felicity entirely seemed like a distant thought. Now she was lost, all at once, and Lucius in particular saw his future laid out bleak before him. There were thoughts that had never been allowed to break to the surface that now tormented him awake and asleep – the thoughts of sunny days ahead with Felicity there always, and perhaps…well, now that seemed entirely out of reach to him. Felicity did not need him. Felicity would have her desired career, love match, children, and he would become nothing to her, not even an old uncle to be pitied.

* * *

In October, Severus eschewed the Halloween banquet to join Lucius at the Manor, wondering how his old friend was taking this separation. He had seen Felicity walking to the feast as he locked his classroom and went down to his chambers, and he wasn't blind enough to miss how much care she had obviously taken with her hair and makeup. Her arm was looped through Luna's and she was walking with a joy in her step never seen at the Manor. The little girls gazed at them both as they made themselves the center of everything.

Lucius had their meal brought to the library, and they mostly just stared into the fire together in silence. It was companionable though, to be there together. It had been years since they could relax as friends without the fear of a war raging outside, or worse still, raging in their own homes. They found themselves much older, and much more willing to need one another.

"I did think she would come," Lucius admitted as he used his scotch for a prism in the firelight. "She seemed so set on it in September. She embarrassed me half to death on the train platform. I didn't think she could go away from me after showing off to everyone like that."

"She is…happy," Severus mused. "She appears happy."

"She's with the boy," Lucius said.

"There are rumors. Frankly I've seen nothing of it myself. They sit together in class, but all the older students do."

Severus glanced over and saw Lucius massaging his temple.

"I wasn't supposed to be reporting to you on this, anyway," Severus went on. "I have seen nothing. She doesn't speak to me."

Lucius waved his hand.

"We both know you seeing nothing means nothing. She is not here, and that's all there is."

* * *

Felicity met Draco in Hogsmeade in November, running into his arms from halfway across town. They settled in for a drink that turned into two and then three drinks, remembering how much they had cared for one another. So many things spilled out between them, except for one. The pressure in Felicity's chest at that point was unbearable, because the only thing she wanted in the world, it seemed, was to allow Dean to put his hand on her low back and draw her close. Every time she thought of this however, and the chills rushed across her breast, Lucius was there as well, and she knew there could never be anything in the world like Lucius.

But these were not things she could discuss with Draco. So she drank, and he listened as her metaphors and oblique references grew more and more garbled.

She woke up somewhere she hadn't been before. A tidy bedroom, all white, with a radiator clanking next to her head. Outside were the sounds of the Muggle world, cars and shouting and radios. The last memories of the day before were hazy. Draco had been holding her up, and she had been saying things that terrified her.

Somehow she wasn't frightened; she was meant to be here, and everything was ok.

Felicity sat up and felt less woozy than she had expected, and without thinking more of it she went to the door and opened it. The smell of coffee was alluring, and without knowing it she had recognized Draco's cologne lingering. But very unfortunately, Lucius was sitting just outside, in an equally serene and pretty living room, eating pastries with Draco and Astoria. Her heart lurched hard at the sight of him, at the exact familiarity of the scene.

"I'm sorry," she said blankly to his joyous face.

In a second Draco was ushering her back into the bedroom, pressing a coffee cup into her hands.

"He wasn't supposed to be here this morning," he said hastily. "He just dropped in. I feel horrible that this looks like a set up."

"No, never. Of course I know…we're family…"

"You were in such a state last night, Felicity. Severus found us while he was sweeping through Hogsmeade for stragglers and he said it was better for you not to go back and that he would tell Luna. You can Floo back to his office any time today you'd like."

She was sipping her coffee through shaking lips and wondering if she looked like she was holding herself halfway together. But then it didn't matter, because as soon as she opened her mouth again, tears came with the words.

"I really want to see him," she said to Draco. She handed the coffee back for fear of spilling it. "I need to see him. Let him come in here."

It wasn't a moment before Lucius was there, crouching before her with her hands wrapped up in his. How could he look so pleased when she had been so horrible?

"I never wrote," she said.

"I told you you didn't have to."

"That doesn't make it right." Something halfway indecent was creeping up her arms from the pressure of him on her palms. Something that felt like the other part of herself.

"I don't care about any of it, Felicity. Although I can't hide my happiness at seeing you." Lucius's eyes were too warm. Danger.

Felicity pulled him up beside her on the little bed, burying her face into his chest. Lucius took her hand up to his heart.

"I want to go to the Manor with you," she whispered. "Please. Just for the afternoon, and I promise I'll go back to school."

"I believe you, Felicity," he replied.

Lucius stood and floated her clothes over to them from their pile in the corner. With a moment's more wordless magic he had them straightened and cleaned, and she thought she would melt away from his soft touch helping her out of Astoria's nightgown and into her jeans.

"I'm just confused," she mumbled as he did all this. It felt like too much was unsaid between them. His thumbs brushed her bare skin at her waistband as her sweater was pulled down.

"I understand, love. I do."

* * *

Lucius gave in. Everything she had wanted over the summer, every touch he had denied her and every word he had kept inside himself to protect her came out that afternoon. He took her home with grateful tenderness, not even making it off the front drive before grabbing her close.

"I think about you every night," he said, running his hand down her back and then lower. "I think about things we've never even done, things I shouldn't…"

"I think about them, too, Lucius," Felicity replied. "It's not shameful."

"You make me feel too big and uncontrolled, though. It's not right to be this unmoored."

"What's right anymore, Lucius?"

She had always assumed coming back would cause her pain. But the Manor felt empty in the best way, perhaps because the door to the other wing was propped open without fear, showcasing only deserted rooms devoid of Dark Magic.

"Aren't you lonely here?" she had asked as he led her up the stairs. They were going quickly, but she noticed the runner had been replaced. It was soft underfoot. She remembered tripping on a tear in the old one when she had first arrived.

"I grew up here. It's worse to be elsewhere."

"I'm sorry I kept you at the beach all summer, then."

Lucius hardly heard her as they approached the bedroom.

"The beach was for you, love," he said as he opened the door.

* * *

Lucius's wedding ring was carved with two hands clasped together in gold. The date of his wedding to Narcissa was embossed on the inside, she knew. It was there printed backwards on his finger if he ever removed it. Felicity spun it round and round that day as the sun set and signaled that it was time for her to go.

"Lucius, where is my wedding ring? And don't say lost at the hospital, because I know that was never true."

Lucius turned away from her and mumbled something.

"You're blushing!" she said. "Out with it."

"I threw it into the ocean," he replied, still looking away.

"Lucius Malfoy!" Felicity was too stunned to be upset. "You're never so hasty."

"Yes, well…I don't know, Felicity. I thought you'd be dead soon. I carried it around in my pocket for a week after they gave it to me at the hospital, and the thought of you losing out on life just when it had been given back to you made me so upset. I didn't want a ring and no other part of you. But I regretted it right away. I tried to Accio it back, but apparently there are limits."

She kissed him along his now reddened hairline. Of course she had known that Lucius had been upset while she was in her coma, but she had never imagined him to be a man so tormented simply by the loss of her.

"I want a new one," she said.

"Felicity…"

"It isn't fair for you to have a ring and not me."

"Mine is…" He hesitated. "Old.

"Yours is important, and I would never want you to give it up. But you're missing the point."

"I understand the point well, Felicity."

"Lucius." She lowered her voice, trembling slightly as if a cold wind had blown in. "I want to be married to you. It's just a few more words, a piece of paper. And then everything will be as it was."

Lucius sat up and started to put his shirt back on. He wasn't blushing any longer.

"People will talk. Your life will be ruined."

"People talk now, about me and Dean. And I don't even love him, Lucius, and they still talk. The rest of my life will be only talk. Let them at least talk about the truth," she pleaded.

He softened, and reached out to touch her leg.

"We agreed to wait your whole school year. I wouldn't dare to tell you how you feel, but I will advise you to look harder at your feelings for Dean. I see things in you, changes, that –"

"Stop, Lucius. I've humiliated myself again begging for you. I won't give up, but I hope you know it wounds me each time."

Felicity slid from the bed and found an old dress in the closet to wear, leaving her pile of now twice worn Muggle clothes there for Lucius to deal with. With nothing more than a half-hearted kiss, she wandered to the sitting room to use the Floo.

* * *

"You're quite late," Severus remarked as she brushed herself off from the fire. "And in your old clothes from the Manor, I see."

"I had no idea you knew my wardrobe so well." Felicity snapped. His nitpicking was bothersome at this point in her day.

"The difference is very obvious. I don't need to know every dress to see which is which. I merely thought you'd be coming back from Draco' as yourself, not from the Manor as Mrs. Malfoy."

"Really, Severus, I would have thought you'd be pleased to see me back to normal. I know you're reporting to him." Felicity had headed it straight for the door, but now that she was there she was unwilling to turn the knob.

"Only on your health. Which until last night had seemed remarkable."

"Yes. Well. Things are not as they seem." She pressed her face against the wood and blinked back tears.

"A cliché."

"One you should know well, Severus," she bit back. "I learned my best tricks watching you."

"Please come sit down, Felicity. I haven't seen you in so long."

She ran her sleeve along her eyes and turned. Her face was twitching in and out of something resembling her normal composed smile.

"So that's what's been underneath your happiness all this time?" he asked. "This grimace?"

"Lucius doesn't want me," she whispered. Her hands were now smashed against the door behind her. One finger found a flaw in the wood to pick at.

"Sit down, Felicity."

Felicity shook her head. Her eyes were pointed somewhere near his feet.

"I don't know what to do," she said. "I'm ruining everything."

Then she turned and fled, leaving an imperceptible gouge in the door behind her.

* * *

Going around the last corner before her little shared room with Luna, she slammed directly into Dean. Had he been waiting outside the door?

"Where were you?" he asked. He was grasping her more firmly than he ever had, even than he had before the War, and his eyes were frantic.

"I was with my family," she replied neatly, looking over his shoulder. Already her smile was solidified back as it was meant to be.

"The Malfoy family," he sighed. His hands fell.

" _My_ family," she said. "Draco took care of me."

"And then did Lucius take care of you?" he snapped.

She recoiled, and then pushed past him.

"Good night, Dean."

* * *

There was a note under the door the next morning.

_I'm so sorry, Lissie, but I'm a human being too and I'm so confused. I never stopped loving you, and I know you know that. I believe everyone knows that. I'm happy to be your friend but it's hard. I had been hoping for something I had no right to._

No one had called her Lissie since before Christmas of her 6th year. Somehow it had been so automatic to everyone when she returned to discard the nickname, and the Malfoys had never used it, not even when she was little. Too close to "Cissy", she supposed. Severus could hardly be broken of calling her "Ms. Grey". The note tugged at her, although she threw it into the fire out of burning embarrassment. Why could she not just take what was before her, the thing that everyone wanted her to have?

* * *

A note came for Severus too, this one not on the back of a graded essay but instead delivered by an owl on the finest parchment. Severus recognized it as Lucius's immediately; he hadn't changed his stationery in 20 years.

_Severus,_

_I've ruined everything with Felicity. Please visit soon._

_LM_

* * *

The next weekend she took Dean down to the lake, and then even farther amidst the trees. Felicity wasn’t foolish enough to think they were unseen anywhere, but at least none of the castle windows looked directly upon them there.

"You were right to be upset," she told him. She sucked her lips in for a moment. "You have been nothing but good to me, and I knew why, and I never stopped you."

"Lissie, I wasn't right. I was too cruel to say it like that. And you –"

"You're the only person who still calls me Lissie," she interrupted. "Everyone else seems to think me a grownup now."

He laughed. Dean had an amazing laugh, loud and fearless.

"I know you feel about as grown up as I do. You'll be Lissie to me forever, even when you're old and have a husband and ten children."

The voice inside of her that always ruined everything screamed _I already do have a husband!_ , but she tamped it down in favor of something else. Felicity finally reached out and took his hand, and then curled her other up over his shoulder, and kissed him.

They had done this before, however long ago it had been. Dean's hand fell easily to her lower back, and her hips pressed towards him. Nothing disturbed them, not a breeze or passing schoolmate with a wandering eye. It was just the two of them and their one very bad idea.

* * *

**I've made a playlist of songs that inspire me for this fic and several of which are titles for the chapters, I hope some of you will enjoy it!<https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_In-zAGWruF3VFHbJIRX7qcq15owgxOn>**


	12. What a Shame She's Fucked in the Head

It didn't take long for Dean to start talking about terrifying things like jobs and places to live. He was already selling illustrations to magazines, and there was an experimental potions quarterly in Edinburgh that was pushing for him to come on the staff.

"But that doesn't mean we have to live there," he said cheerfully. "It's funny to me, growing up a Muggle so afraid of a commute. Now I can just Apparate anywhere and be home in an instant."

Felicity tried to laugh along with this, despite the wheels turning rapidly in her head (and having very little conception of what a commute was). Edinburgh seemed very far from Wiltshire.

They were spending long days together, studying well into the night in the library. Dean had wondered aloud a few times if Luna would be willing to leave them alone in their room for a while, and Felicity always demurred that it would be too cruel to make her leave her own space. Their room was a special sanctuary of girlhood; really the last either of them had left. It was an unused professor's suite, although much smaller than Severus's, which Felicity presumed had been earned through tenure. Just a bathroom and enough space for two small beds, lit with enchanted fairy lights and scattered with Luna's latest jewelry experiments. The view was one of the prettiest in the whole school, and the girls treasured it as theirs alone.

So she and Dean met behind tapestries and in the boat shed, Dean remembering all the time how close the two of them had once been to going all the way. Felicity had forgotten this entirely. Their relationship before the War had been pure to her, and all she remembered was wanting to wait for him forever and having forever taken away.

Throughout all of this, Luna watched. She watched while Felicity bit her lips raw and stayed out past curfew teasing Dean, and watched as she didn't sleep even after getting into bed at 1 or 2 in the morning. She saw Dean's desperation to hold on clearly, while Felicity saw nothing but the opportunity to be 16 again.

* * *

At Christmas, Dean urged her to come home with him and meet his family. Draco wrote and offered their guest room again for her, although he noted that he and Astoria would have to go to the Manor for at least some of the holiday. Lucius said nothing.

The last time Felicity had made this decision, everything had gone wrong completely, so she did what she should have done the first time and went with Luna.

Luna's father had grown sedate since the War ended, although his notions remained the same. The Quibbler came out less often, and he had made himself more at home with visiting the Weasleys on a regular basis, to keep the loneliness at bay. So Felicity and Luna spent the break walking back and forth with him to the Burrow, sleeping in amongst Luna's fantastical murals, and doing their Christmas shopping both in Ottery St. Catchpole and Diagon Alley.

Felicity truly delighted in picking out homewares for Draco and Astoria, and paying for them easily with her own money. They would never want for crockery if she had anything to say about it. Luna was simple to buy for in a plant shop hidden at the dustiest end of the street, and Severus would be receiving new slippers, a gift she had to guess he had no one else in his life tender enough to give. There was an entire world of art supplies she knew Dean couldn't afford, and it was easy enough to have the store pack off a package to him.

Lucius was a problem.

He didn't want anything, not even her, so she finally sent a bottle of scotch on Christmas Eve, signed with the smallest card available at the store register.

* * *

Xenophilius, Luna, and Felicity enjoyed Christmas with all of the Weasleys, and Harry, and Hermione, and a great many new tiny children Felicity had had no idea existed. She thought briefly on Christmas Eve of visiting Lucius, but remembered he would have Draco there, and probably Severus, and told herself that was plenty.

The Lovegood contingent left the Burrow in time to be home by dark, planning only an evening of mulled wine and playing with Luna's new Sneakoscope. But there were parcels there for Felicity and a note from Luna's Aunt Gunhild saying she wished she could stop over for some tea. She didn't live too far, so an owl was sent telling her to come along while Felicity examined the gifts. One from Lucius, one from Dean. Predictable. She didn't want to open either.

An hour or so with Gunhild had her reconsidering the interest the packages held. She excused herself into the kitchen to look at them again. Dean's was obviously clothing, Lucius's a book. Lucius's also had a beautiful letter attached; she could assume Dean's note was scribbled somewhere on the inside.

_Dear Felicity,_

_I couldn't resist. You once threw this at me in the library at the Manor, and you were right. However, I hope this time you might read it and know well that I want you to use what you learn._

_Yours,_

_Lucius_

The book, _Arithmancy and the Fourth Dimension_ , was beautiful, and rare, the kind of rare only Lucius Malfoy could come upon. The corners were dented from her throw. Just like him not to mend them.

She left the other parcel and went back to the living room with her book in a daze.

* * *

"That is a very fancy book," Luna noted in the morning. The girls had been sleeping together in her large, elaborately made bed, and the book had floated between them during the night after Felicity had fallen asleep reading it.

"It's a bit of a joke between us," Felicity blushed, gathering it up into her arms and then over onto the bedside table.

"I bet Dean would like a note back," Luna said. "Would you like me to get you a quill?"

"You're being a pill, Luna. You know I didn't open his."

"I only wish I knew why."

Felicity flopped back on the pillow. It was hard to think with a benignly smiling Neville Longbottom floating above her head.

"Dean wants to move in together after school. He just started talking about it like it was a given. I can't understand why he thinks it is."

"Perhaps because you spend all of your time together, kissing," Luna observed.

"Perhaps," Felicity mused. "Isn't it time for the morning constitutional?" She could hear Xeno enthusiastically crafting the tea downstairs.

"Perhaps," Luna replied.

* * *

"Stop pushing her away then, if you want her to stay," Severus reprimanded his friend on a blindingly snowy New Year's morning.

"She isn't well enough to decide that on her own," Lucius replied.

"Lucius, if Felicity is as unwell as you say, why isn't she receiving any help?"

Lucius grimaced.

"I should have done more earlier. But I was afraid to push her into therapy when she was so weak, and now she won't go. You know her, she doesn't want to hear anything contrary to her."

"She doesn't want to remember, rather," Severus said. "Would you?"

"I think about it every day, Severus."

"Felicity is 20 years old, Lucius, and she's lived through more torture than you. She has already been married and cast aside, lost a child, lost her magic. It's small among the other things how badly you treated her at one point. I remember a mark you wouldn't heal…"

"Yes, I was terrible," Lucius snapped. "I know it. Which is why I've driven her away."

"Impossible man. What answer are you looking for?"

* * *

For whatever it lacked, that break was the pleasantest time Felicity could remember spending in her short life. She and Luna worked the press for the Quibbler by hand until they were covered in ink and exhausted and saw the benefit of magic again, and then walked across the frosty countryside delivering the New Year's issue for free. Felicity had never existed so freely in the world. Her whole life had been shuttled between one big house to another, to school, to Diagon Alley, back again. Between the Wizarding households of the area they'd encounter Muggle families running their dogs or attempting to fly kites, and there were nothing but friendly greetings between them.

"I'd rather not go back to school," Felicity sighed as they started the walk home from a long tea with Amos Diggory. He had been grateful beyond words to see them; Luna had warned Felicity of his change for the more effusive since losing his wife.

"But don't you think Dean will be pleased to see you?" Luna asked.

"Yes, I believe he will."

* * *

 _It's not something you have to do, _Felicity told herself in the mirror that morning. Luna had enchanted it to show Nargles floating all around the observers head. _You get to do it. To have an honest conversation with a man who loves you._

She sighed, and gathered up her mittens and scarf to meet Dean in the grove where they had their second first kiss.

She listened to him talk for a long time about houses for let. He had seen a few over break, even, and proudly presented her with his own sketches of them. Gabled eaves, arbors heavy with vines, footpaths that wound down to little springs. Each had something for her pleasure alone.

"Dean, when I lost the baby –" she started out of nowhere, grabbing for his gloved hand and fixing him with a frank look.

"What?"

She assumed he hadn't heard her.

"When I lost the baby –"

"What baby?"

"What – I...my baby, Dean. When I was pregnant at the Manor." Lucius's name seemed to have no place in this conversation.

Dean blanched.

"I'm sorry to have brought it up," she said, correcting course. "Such a serious topic."

"No, Felicity. I didn't know you were ever pregnant"

"Oh God." She squeezed her eyes shut and banged her head against the tree behind them. "I...everyone saw me. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna. They all know, of course I thought they would have told you"

"They did not tell me," he said. His lips were drawn very tight.

"Here I thought we were both avoiding the topic," she said.

"What were you going to say about it?" he asked, voice a bit faint.

"It's…strange to say. I was never able to conceive again, and I haven't been to a Healer for it yet. I guess we – I – wanted to keep it that way. But you've been talking about the future and I don't think you understand how badly damaged I am."

Dean was looking long into the distance as if he could see something she could not.

"I don't care," he pronounced. He put his arm around her. "You are more important to me that anything. Maybe over time it'll get better. Maybe it was never anything wrong at all."

"Maybe," she murmured, knitting her brow.

* * *

Felicity dreamed that Lucius was screaming at her in a way he never had before. His anger with her had always been controlled enough, even when to an outsider it might have looked demented. _She_ had known what he would do next. But this was a new man, borne out of her neglect. She was sitting at the long dining room table, in her usual seat of low importance, and he was standing across from her with his palms on the wood. He was furious she never came home, that she skipped Christmas, even with Draco, that she sent him bottom shelf scotch at the last minute when she knew easily a hundred things that would please him more. He wanted her to go to a therapist, and a Healer. He wanted children because she did, but she was making it impossible. Her grades were not good. She ignored Severus. He was slamming one palm on the table. He asked her who on Earth she thought she was, and she didn't know.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell Dean I was pregnant?" Felicity sprung on Luna, who was hanging out the open window letting all the frigid January air in, the next morning. She dropped her plum to plummet off the side of the cliff in response.

"What words would you use for that, Felicity?"

"Those words. 'Felicity is pregnant'."

Luna reached out to shut the window in a sweeping gesture that chilled Felicity. One more inch and she could have fallen like the plum before her.

"Our lives were easier than yours," Luna admitted. "Maybe. We were still running. It wasn't a picnic or a camping trip. We weren't always together, and usually we were apart. And I didn't like it either, my beautiful, charming best friend raising a child with our captor. I suppose all four of us thought it would just come out in the wash. On my worst days I assumed you and the baby and him would be the survivors, and there would be no need to explain anyway."

Felicity buried herself under the covers during this speech, despite already being dressed for the school day.

"It’s rather a long time you've gone without ever mentioning the subject to him, don't you think?" Luna went on. Right as always.

"I've only spoken to two people about it ever," Felicity said into the comforter. "Draco was there, even, and we've never spoken of it once. Surely I am allowed one secret."

"You have plenty of secrets. I see secrets when I look at you."

"Well, I don't have this one anymore," Felicity said, poking her head out.

"And what did Dean say?"

"He didn't care. That's what he said, at least."

"Of course he didn't! You and your secrets. Why do you keep them?" Luna replied.

"I can't…" Felicity started to say. Something was twisting her features from the inside out. "I could never say half of what happened."

* * *

Felicity was dawdling on the way to the bathroom after she had excused herself from Charms class. The halls were pleasantly quiet; occasionally a younger student would rush past her, head bowed as they hoped to get away with whatever tricks they were up to. She smiled at the ghosts, who nodded genteelly in turn. This was her Hogwarts of a long time ago.

It was too late to turn, however, when she noticed Severus coming towards her. He'd notice if she dodged into one of the rooms along the long corridor, and she couldn't turn suddenly at the sight of him either.

"I won't deign to guess which name you'd like to go by today," he greeted her.

"Felicity is fine, Professor." She kept her gaze headed down the hall ahead of her, as if she had been in a hurry all along.

"Severus. Are you meant to be out of class, Felicity?"

"I'm going to the restroom."

"I suppose I'll believe that this time, although there are restrooms closer to the Charms classroom."

Felicity broke her eye contact with the gargoyle in the closest niche for that.

"I'd have thought you'd have better things to memorize than my class schedule, Severus."

"You are bound and determined to be uncared for, Felicity. It could do you some good to accept that you aren't."

He left her with that, and she waited for him to disappear before turning back to class, having never really needed to use the restroom at all.

* * *

Ginny had an engagement ring. A gigantic one, the appearance of which doubled the decibel level in the Great Hall. And Hermione was right there crushed up against her on the bench, laughing and blushing like she understood what it was like, even though her finger was bare for now. Dean was in the crowd around them, smiling for all the world like nothing was amiss with all of this.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, which always meant chaos, so no one noticed Felicity get up and leave her full plate behind. She wandered to her room and got ready for bed; she was sure Luna wouldn't be back for hours, if back at all that night. Everyone was going to be celebrating.

* * *

There were footsteps - not elves, not Draco with some late night emergency. They were rushing and yet Lucius was not afraid; Felicity arrived before even the thought of reaching for his wand. The light from the hall was blacked out in her cloak swirling, and when it fell she was in only her nightgown and bare feet.

"I banged down Severus's door," she gasped. "I was going to go to the Owlery, and I -" She broke into sobs and crawled into Lucius's heavy arms.

"You're here now," he murmured. He was already falling asleep again. "And it will be okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kudos and comments! They really fill me up 
> 
> My proofreading may have been a bit...fast and loose on this one so excuse me any errors please


	13. Circlet of Stars

Lucius dreamed they were at a garden party, somewhere still and verdant, with old friends milling about. There was no sense of urgency or fear, truly a scene unlike any Lucius had experienced in his life. Even in his youth, or his early marriage to Narcissa, every day was lived in the heat of something to be gained.

"Your wife is _so_ charming, Lucius. And that baby!"

"They are both perfect, aren't they?"

He and Ulysses Grosvenor were watching Felicity from yards away as she helped a plump toddler trail her hands through a fountain. Mother and daughter were laughing and growing increasingly damp; Lucius noted to warn Felicity before her white dress went sheer.

Ulysses was a very old friend of the Malfoys; Lucius was sure he had been ancient when he was born himself. He was a longtime widower with no children, a believer in the old ways of things but never a follower of the Dark Lord.

"I believe we've had this conversation before, Lucius," he prodded.

Lucius turned up his mouth at that. The old man had never been subtle.

"Perhaps we did. I've been this lucky twice."

"And what did become of poor Narcissa? It seemed that after that you became a recluse."

"Not a recluse. Just bound elsewhere." Lucius had to pause then to gesture somewhat wildly at Felicity that the water play had gone on long enough. She smiled back at him and hoisted the baby high, coaching her to wave back. "Narcissa died at the Dark Lord's hand. She was a casualty of my ignorance. He cursed her and then said nothing of it, knowing I was too weak to fight back."

"You will try again."

Felicity was approaching them, and things were growing hazy.

"I will try," Lucius choked out.

* * *

Lucius smoothed her hair in the dawn. Her right hand was pressed up to her mouth, fingers curled in almost as if she would suck her thumb. It had not been automatic to recognize something amiss when he woke; to have Felicity beside him felt more natural than anything. But his eyes focused on her discarded wand and cloak as the sun rose higher and began to glint off the dry tear tracks on her face. She had said something troubling about the Owlery. A tower, surely deserted at night when the Astronomy Tower could be in use. A place to be alone. A place to see the edge of the world.

He couldn't wake her. As time passed he slipped his arms more fully around her, waiting for the moment her eyes would open, for her to understand she wasn't alone anymore. It was a Wednesday morning and he knew he should send an owl, or an elf to Severus, before she was missed, but any of those things would disturb her. Severus knew where she was, at least.

There was a small box in Lucius's top dresser drawer, amongst his cufflinks and watches. In it was a bit of light, the thing she wanted most, and he had the power to give it to her. And what could his life be without her?

Lucius shifted then and grabbed his wand, summoning the gift. The movement and gentle clinking of the drawer opening and the contents rustling within roused Felicity, although her hand was still limp in his when he slid the ring on.

She smiled against the pillow.

"When did you buy this?" she murmured.

"The day you yelled at me about it."

"I didn't yell," she said, bringing the ring up to her face. Blue stones of every shade made little stars around a gold band.

"I was scolded and you were right. I bought it then but I didn't know what to do. I still don't."

"Everything can be –" she started.

"Everything cannot be as it was," he stopped her. "I still don't know why you're here and I'm very worried over it. I'm going to invite Severus for dinner this evening and we will all talk about what can be done for you. The ring is yours regardless of anything; I won't play games. You are my wife and I am your husband. But you must admit now that you've been crazed since summer ended."

Felicity turned over and took his head between her hands. The uneven surface of the ring rolled along his cheekbone.

"I will be content forever now," she whispered, "but I'll do as you say."

"I love you, Felicity," was the only reply.

* * *

Severus wrote back to Lucius's late owl that he had already contacted a therapist that morning to come see Felicity at Hogwarts several times a week. There was disdain in the reply, although he agreed to the meal.

Felicity waited for him to step out of the fire, and was met with a grimace.

"I see you have your ring."

"Yes, and look at how calm I am." She held it up. In the twilight, the stones had turned orange and then amethyst with the sky.

"You've been deceptively calm many times before," he replied, walking away.

* * *

After dinner they all went to Lucius's office and sat in the way she remembered the two men sitting so seriously during the War when she had felt like only a child. Lucius shut the door, although there was no one there to overhear secrets now.

"Someone is coming to Hogwarts for you to talk with. She'll be there twice a week, starting tomorrow morning. And you'll have tea with Severus every Wednesday. You'll come home on the weekends on Saturday nights and be back to school by 5 on Sunday. Does that all sound ok?" Lucius asked.

"It sounds like a relief," she said. Lucius smiled and reached his hand across the desk to stroke hers. Severus groaned.

"Lucius told me you said something about the Owlery, Felicity. We're here to talk about that, not dance around it," Severus said.

She withdrew her hand.

"I believe you both know what I meant or else you wouldn't be staring at me like this."

Lucius let out a long breath and leaned back hard in his chair, letting it spin a bit away from Felicity and Severus. Severus did something he had never done before, however, and reached out to touch her shoulder.

"If you are that desperate again, you must come directly to me, or tell Ms. Lovegood. Please."

"Severus, you _didn't_ tell Luna."

"Of course I did. She came directly to me this morning, even before breakfast. I was surprised she didn't know you had left."

"When you're trying to kill yourself you usually don't go around telling people," Felicity replied.

Lucius's hand tightened on the arm of his chair.

"I want you to stay the night again, Felicity," he spoke up. "That's fine, isn't it Severus?"

"She already missed the entire school day, Lucius. She's meant to meet Mrs. Markham in the morning though."

"I'll go back early, and you can walk me to the appointment." Felicity started to stand up.

"Sit, Felicity. We should talk about one more thing," Severus ordered. He eyed Lucius, who was looking the other direction. "Really, I'd rather your husband started the conversation."

Lucius sighed and pulled a long, fine chain out of his pocket.

"I got you this to go with your ring," he said, pushing it across the desk, "because I didn't know when or what you'd say to Mr. Thomas."

Felicity pushed it back.

"I'll talk to him immediately. I asked you for a ring and I'm not going to hide it around my neck."

"Are you sure, Felicity? Because really it seems that all of the conflict you've been struggling with has come from your feelings for him –"

"I love you, Lucius, but I think you understand very little of how I feel about Dean."

Severus's eyebrows raised, and he stood to leave.

"I'll see you in the morning, Felicity, before 8 please," he said as he pushed his chair away.

"I'd have a cup of coffee with you, Severus, if you had some. I'll come early," Felicity smiled up at him.

"Very well. Good night, Lucius." Lucius made a noise of acknowledgement, and Severus was gone.

"You are so troubled, Lucius," Felicity observed as the footsteps echoed away.

"I don't like to hear these things about you. About how hard things are."

"Things were hard. Now I know my anchor remains steady." Felicity rose and went to him. She held her hands out in front of her from him to take; he pressed his face against them.

"I only wanted peace for you," he said. "I thought I was offering it."

"There's no roadmap for us," she soothed. "There certainly hasn't been one for me."

Lucius pulled her into his lap.

"What have you done, Felicity, that has you so in knots?"

"I…I can't say. Not to you."

"I don't care. I told you to go away from me, and I won't be mad if you did. Obviously something is happening between you and Dean."

She nodded into Lucius's chest.

"I thought…I wanted to please everyone. You all wanted me to be with him so I made up my mind to do it. And it felt good…feels good. Dean is good. He is far too good for me."

"So what do you say to him about us?" Lucius pried on.

"He doesn't ask. I don't say. He was upset in November when I spent the night at Draco's. But I think he's resigned to waiting for me to snap out of it. Which now I'll never do."

"I never knew you to be such a deviant, Mrs. Malfoy."

Felicity shivered.

"My forbidden name," she said. "You aren't mad?"

"I'm more worried about Dean. Truly. Losing you is a nightmare."

* * *

Felicity woke and dressed feeling more the lady of the house than she ever had before. Lucius didn't stir until she kissed him goodbye, and she dragged his hand out across the covers as she left.

"On Saturday," he murmured.

* * *

Severus had the coffee as promised, and breakfast for her as well.

"Does it suit Mrs. Malfoy's expectations?" he asked, pulling out her chair.

"I could have taken black coffee in a mug and nothing else. Your cups are very elegant, Severus, and very small."

"I thought you were quite a highbred lady now."

"Stop it. Why do you hate him?"

"I do not hate Lucius, Felicity. He is my oldest friend. He has taken care of me many, many times when I did not have the money or the even the inclination to see to myself. Where many other do not understand his past or his leanings, I am able to see through all the pomp and wickedness he's shown the world," Severus said. He hadn't so much as picked up a piece of toast.

"And you have been all those things to me, Severus, and I see the same in you. Yet you want me unhappy."

Severus fixed her gaze then, and did not flinch at the hurt in her eyes.

"That is the thing I want least in the world, Felicity. When you are older, you will –"

"Blech." She flopped back in her chair. "I understand now. You don't really thing age can bring more to me than life already has?"

"No, Felicity." Severus smiled a bit. "I hope it won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update! I've also been updating my Lucissa fic Be Careful of the Curse and plan to release a Lucissa oneshot fairly soon.
> 
> Thinking a lot about how much of Felicity's therapy to write. It's just a lot of dialogue which isn't my favorite to publish


	14. Unwelcome

The room Severus led her to was one Felicity was sure hadn't had a door before, right near the Headmaster's office. Inside she found just two chairs and a low table, although there were three big windows and a fire. The woman who shook her hand looked like Felicity's mother if she had been a good woman; short brown hair and jade eyes. She was wearing Muggle clothing and introduced herself as Rebecca; Felicity felt like a specimen to be studied in her old clothes from the Manor.

"You must know a lot about me," Felicity said, staring steadily at her as they settled down after exchanging pleasantries. "Everyone does."

"I know some things," Rebecca replied, "but I'd really like to hear it all from you. Why don't you tell me why you're only here now, when you could have been in treatment the moment the  
War ended."

"The moment the War ended I was in a coma for over a month."

Rebecca just gazed back, waiting.

Felicity took a deep breath. It was already hot in the small room, she thought.

"I guess I'm here now because I cry too much. I always did, but now people notice it. At the Manor they expected it. I've become a problem out here in the world."

"What are you crying about?"

Felicity stared again, but this time her eyes were large and her mouth fell open.

"I…I was tortured. I believe I was tortured within an inch of my life while everyone I knew and who was meant to care for me watched. And then I didn't die, even though I felt myself dying, and I woke up in the morning and decided everything would be fine. It was fine for everyone else. But I was still a motherless mother without her child, a wandless witch…all I really was a wife."

It seemed strange to Felicity that these were the words she'd choose. Surely there had been worse things than one night at Voldemort's mercy. And yet, she spoke of it entirely without thought.

"Are you still?" Rebecca asked.

"A wife?"

"Yes."

"Yes," Felicity smiled. Under the folds of her cloak, she stroked her ring.

"That made you very happy to say." Rebecca was smiling too. That was not how people usually responded to Felicity's love for Lucius.

Felicity held up her hand then, pushing it into a sunbeam above her head.

"Maybe I was wrong before," she said, gazing at it. "Really I'm here because I finally have this. Lucius wouldn't give in for a long time about letting me stay with him."

"So how did that bring you here?"

"I never stopped wanting to be with him. He was convinced he was doing the right thing for me by 'letting me go', but it made me so angry. Lucius was my entire world for a long time and he wouldn't even say 'I love you' suddenly. I didn't want to obey him when he treated me like that."

"Do you think a wife obeys her husband?" Rebecca pressed.

"I think a husband and wife obey one another. He finally went first for once."

Rebecca smiled again, and Felicity lowered her hand back into her pocket.

"Let's go back to your time during the War, Felicity," she said.

"If I tell you everything, you'll run out," Felicity said, trying to laugh. She wanted to say _enough about me. I'm being selfish._

"Frankly Felicity, I'm not being paid to run out."

It took her a long time to compose her thoughts. Outside the window, first years were having flying class; one soared high with a look of shock and then made a sudden reversal, plummeting into a soft patch Madame Hooch waved into being. 

"My parents sold me to Voldemort," she began, "who wanted me to be Lucius Malfoy's wife. Which sounds silly, because it was. There was never a ceremony or any such thing. But we were meant to have children, mostly as a punishment to us both. And we almost did. We almost had one. I tried to escape once and Lucius caught me and we fell, and I miscarried." She kept staring out, farther now to the rising smoke over Hagrid's hut.

"What did that do to you?"

"Losing the baby?" Felicity's brow knotted up as Rebecca nodded. "It ruined everything. Lucius and I seemed to have an agreement until then. Suddenly we didn't…I really can't talk about this."

A tissue was offered, more time allowed.

"Why is it so hard to talk about Lucius's reaction?" Rebecca asked.

"That is not the same Lucius. I can't say what he did during that time. He is not the same now," Felicity insisted.

"I believe you."

"That is such a nice thing to say."

* * *

It was too late to do anything but try to run when she saw him. Dean was waiting in the courtyard she had to pass to get up to room, and she desperately needed to be in her room to get back into her school uniform and wash her face. She averted her eyes and quickened her step, but he was obviously waiting for her and cut her off.

"Again." This was all he said, standing there blocking her way.

"Yes, Dean, again," she whispered.

"How much am I to put up with? How many more times? Or it will it be forever?"

"No, not forever," she replied. Felicity had to do as she promised. She lifted up her left hand to show him the ring, and he stumbled back.

"This whole time, Felicity?" he choked out. "You were just…waiting?"

"Honestly, yes. It was wrong, but I'll make one excuse. My mind has not been at rest for the past 4 years. That's all I can say. Other than that, I was wrong."

Dean was leaning against the wall now. Curious first years walked by, obviously going slowly trying to observe. Felicity glared at them, and then put a soft hand on his arm.

"You are very good, gentle, worthy person, Dean. I wanted to love you. But you are smart enough to see I couldn't. I'm just…wrong."

He jerked his arm away at that.

"No one is going to come to your wedding and cry happy tears, Felicity," he snapped, and retreated down the hall.

* * *

Felicity went back to her room and sighed relief to find Luna gone. Although she had showered the night before and it was hardly 10 am, she could not resist drowning everything out in hot water. She emerged half boiled 20 minutes later and slid into her bed, which was heavy from disuse.

There was still so much explaining to do. She was late for Charms now, for one, and had missed an entire day before, including Arithmancy, which was all she really strove in at this point. And then Luna still did not know of her decision, and that was likely to be a whole long war to fight. Although Dean might already be making short work of sharing it around. But no, that wasn't like Dean either. He might tell Ginny, or some other old confidant, but he would not be found spreading rumors in the Great Hall.

Luna came back at lunch time and woke Felicity from her unplanned nap by banging her books around, changing them for her afternoon classes.

"I see you've come back with a new piece of jewelry," she noted right away.

"Hello, Luna."

"Hello, Felicity."

"You're upset with me," Felicity said.

"I woke up to you gone and all of your shoes here. I had to go down to the dungeons and embarrass myself asking after you –"

"Severus didn't care."

"But Dean and I _did_ care," Luna cried.

"Luna," Felicity said, throwing back the covers and going to her friend, "I am here again, and I will be here the rest of the year, on a strict schedule. I'm going to get better."

"I want to feel happy for you, Felicity, I do, but it's so hard when you're with him."

"Everyone is very upset," Felicity observed, drawing away from Luna again, "that I am finally getting something only I want."

* * *

Felicity dreamed of the same toddler as Lucius; round and pink cheeked and curly haired. But the setting was not at all the same. They were in a place that she knew to be Bellatrix's house, although she had never been there in waking hours. Felicity was sitting alone in a corner at some kind of gathering, and everyone there was the same as they were every Friday night during the War. Lucius was very far away from her, talking with Rudolphus. The baby was asleep in her lap and her back ached in the stiff chair. Lucius glanced to her, and grimaced. They were together, at least, in whatever this emotion was. Everyone else was happy.

* * *

On Saturday morning she got up very early and crept to the Great Hall alone. The halls were all but empty and Felicity thought she might be the first one to arrive to breakfast at all. But when she got through the big doors and blinked her way out of the beam of light that struck her, she saw Ginny sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table.

"Good morning, Gin."

"Good morning, Felicity."

Felicity's coffee cup was full almost before she sat down; funny, really, how magic could learn your habits too.

"Well, I have to imagine you're here waiting for me," Felicity began.

"I heard about your ring and I was dying to see it."

Felicity hesitated a moment and then put her hand up beside Ginny's plate, and Ginny took it without reserve.

"Those stones are _so_ lovely," she sighed. "What are they?"

The stones were just starting to go sky blue then, and Felicity smiled.

"Something very special, I suppose. They change all day as the sky does. At dusk they'll be fiery. And let's see yours then."

Ginny acquiesced and her diamond was admired from all angles. They talked of wedding dates and dresses without thinking one another strange, and hardly noticed that the Great Hall was starting to fill up a bit, and people were looking at them.

"Thank you for coming over here, Ginny," Felicity said among the stares. "It's been…difficult the past few days."

"You know, Felicity," Ginny said, staring off at the stained glass above them, "if Tom Riddle had been a person, and not just a memory of one, and he had made it long enough to perform some grand gesture to show me that he had changed, I believe I would still love him to this day."

Felicity smiled and knotted her hands tight in her lap as some 3rd years sat down barely out of earshot.

"A grand gesture is grand, but I can hardly call it brave when it's at the very last possible moment you can make it. And I don't suppose you would have ever met Tom Riddle if it weren't for my dear husband."

Ginny grasped Felicity's left hand hard and eased it into hers.

"He saved all of us. Harry has told me about it more than once. How frightened he was, how sure he was that it was the end. How angry he was when he knew it was Lucius examining him, and then how confused. Without Lucius everything would be as it was a year ago still, except I'm sure most of us would be dead. It doesn't matter why he did it. But I am sure he did it for you."

* * *

Returning to the Manor was a rush of relief that weekend, and when she arrived through the Floo, Lucius was waiting with Astoria and Draco. He handed her a drink and kissed her immediately, and then she was free to go to the welcome arms of her small family.

"We thought you'd likely need to see more than one friendly face," Draco smiled.

"And that you'd need more than one drink as well," Lucius said.

"The Gobstones are all set up," Draco said.

"I for one was shocked to learn that I had married into a family of professional Gobstones players," Astoria said. "I thought we'd spend family gatherings smoking pipes and reading through financial statements."

"No, darling," Draco teased. "That comes after your third Sazerac, when you're face down on the couch."

"Lucius didn't show me his Gobstones for years," Felicity said, settling into the space under his waiting arm. "And I couldn't believe I was finding out that there was something he was embarrassed to show me."

The night went on easily like that, food and drink and games until, as Draco had predicted, Astoria was falling asleep. They said goodbyes and stumbled into the fire, leaving Felicity surrounded by the detritus of the first party she had ever hosted.

"Can life really be like this?" she marveled to Lucius. "There will be good things again?"

"I hope so, Felicity. I'm going to do my best to make it so, for you."

They began to drift off in the dying firelight, Felicity laying with her head in his lap.

"I made a very bad promise last spring to take you to the beach for the summer," Lucius said.

"It was a _good_ promise," she replied. "It just didn't mean quite what you thought it would."

"Yes, well. I hesitate to make it again. But when you are finished with school, I'm going to take you as far away from here as I possibly can, and we'll live by the sea until life absolutely forces us to return."

"Greece?"

"Farther."

"Madagascar?"

"Farther, even," he urged.

"Lucius, this is really turning into quite a promise you're making," she laughed.

"Fine. Perhaps Greece is far enough. Does that suit you?"

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me and the man who will deliver our seafood."

"You won't fish for it yourself?" she teased.

"If it will please you, I will," he swore back.

"It would please me more to return from this excursion of yours married."

"Yes, I think that would please me as well."


	15. Reeling

It was hard to move on when she was always so _dizzy_. This was something Felicity truly did feel no one else could understand – they had all had trauma, all had lost loved ones or suffered torture during the War. But no one, at least none of her friends, had been cursed nearly to death and then left to recover.

Of course, she had Healers, the best Healers, and all the potions and pills anyone could think to produce for her. She had no idea how much any of this cost Lucius, but it was surely a fortune spent on her concierge care alone. Felicity was in the hospital wing several times a week and when Madame Pomfrey was at a loss, one of the Healers from the summer would appear and dose her with something, and she would wake up in the twilight, alone with no one but a young nurse at the far end of the wing.

* * *

"Felicity, can you please stay?" Professor Vector called out one day as the class was packing up their bags. Hermione's ears pricked up slightly, but no one else even glanced at Felicity as she turned back.

Professor Vector was a sinewy woman who always wore her hat very straight. She and Felicity had been close before, but now Felicity found herself more often in the dungeons with Severus when she needed advice. She had become shy around the woman who had been her greatest mentor, and she knew that her course work was only average at this point.

Vector sat down behind her desk and gestured for Felicity to take a chair she conjured.

"How have you been, Felicity?' she asked as she shuffled through the assignments that she had just collected. "You haven't come to see me much this year."

Felicity stared at the wall in a daze. How could she summarize her thoughts, make an excuse?  
"I'm tired," she replied. Her voice broke slightly.

The shuffling stopped, and Professor Vector caught her gaze. Her eyes were incredibly pale, and Felicity knew well that numbers were flying behind them, interpreting her words as Felicity had done so many times herself.

"Your work is still very good, Felicity. I know you think it isn't, but your skills have so much more character than the others. The way you make interpretations astounds me sometimes."

"That's nice to hear. It does feel natural to me when so many things don't anymore. My wand…" She gestured limply at where she had laid it on Vector's desk. "I prefer not to use it."

"Did you make predictions while you were away from school?" Vector questioned, leaning in further. "Was it ever a comfort to you?"

"I don't know…I suppose I did when I was first at the Manor. I tried to keep up, to read all the Arithmancy books there. I was calm for a while at the beginning. Maybe that was me comforting myself through numbers. But then, it dropped off. Whatever connects me to Arithmancy went away. I turned it away, I guess. Luc–" She stopped herself. "They offered to let me perform Arithmancy for Voldemort, to be free. I said no."

Professor Vector nodded, and then to Felicity's surprise reached up and removed her hat. One long hat pin seemed to be doing a lot of work, as her long black hair tumbled down as well.

"I've been there. Losing my gifts, my passion. Just wanting to survive. I've always been able to do Arithmancy on paper, but you and I both know it's nothing without your magic."

"I don't know anyone else who understands it," Felicity agreed.

"I did want to ask you something. I'm meant to go to Italy for the summer and study with a small group of other renowned Arithmancers. And I thought you would like to come as well."

Felicity had grown relaxed in the familiar environment. Professor Vector's classroom was mostly walled with windows, and smelled faintly of oranges from a few candles burning by the doors that led off into her office. This was the place where Felicity had most started to grow into herself, to question the world she had been indoctrinated into. But the idea of going away, of something more than the Manor and more than Hogwarts, made her choke. Things started to swim again.

"Professor, I –"

She was ashamed to fall forward into her knees, bundling her hands over her head. Professor Vector hurried around the desk and put her hand on her back.

"Are you alright, Felicity? Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No." Felicity shook her head. "I need Severus."

Soon she was ensconced in a battered chair in Severus's rooms, hardly sure of how she had gotten there. He and Professor Vector were talking on the other side of the door, but when he reentered he was alone.

"I don't think you've been very honest with us about your health," he said. He went over to an apothecary cupboard for a moment and then handed her a vial. "Just for the moment. You'll go eat dinner shortly."

"You and Lucius still know all about my health," she muttered, although she took the potion. "I'm sure Professor Vector told you what happened."

"She did. She believes in you."

"She won't now."

"Not so. She told me you should take as much time as you need to decide. But I don't really think time is what you need."

She glowered at him and tucked her feet up under her skirt.

"Meaning?" she asked.

"What do you think you're going to do after school, Felicity, really? Be a housewife? Give up on anything other than Lucius?"

She was quiet, and he let her sit while he tidied the room.

"You know I'm not strong," she started.

"I do not. You may be physically weak, but only because you withstood a curse that would have killed most others. Personally I believe you only lived through that because you had lived through so many years without an outlet for magic before. It had nowhere to go except into protecting you. He wasn't going to destroy you at the last moment."

"You never shared this theory with me before."

"Lucius and I have been discussing it. We'll never really know what happened. But you should take that as an example regardless that you are not at all weak."

Felicity considered this.

"All I want is to be at home, Severus," she replied. "Even now, I wish I was asleep on the couch in the study while Lucius works at his desk. I'm only staying here by the skin of my teeth. I can't go to Italy, I can't be so far from him."

"Well. Lucius won't intervene now. I believe you finally convinced him that you can make your own decisions, but I also believe you know that he would be disappointed to know that you gave up a chance to better yourself to stay home with him."

Severus walked with her to the Great Hall. They were late for dinner, and she slumped into herself as she ate mashed potatoes alone close to the head table. The only people left were fourth years who had arrived late and windswept from observing bioluminescent plants in the lake with Professor Sprout. The "Advanced" students, as those in her age group were called, tended to gather together at night, regardless of house and without worry of any curfew. Now that it was getting warmer, she assumed they were out on the Astronomy Tower or the dock of the Great Lake, and that it was likely no one had mentioned they should wait for her to show up.

No one had shunned Felicity, but things had quickly grown terse between herself and those who had no reason to trust Lucius. Even Luna was different; they went on their lives as always, usually together for meals and class and studying, but Felicity felt now that Luna was keeping things from her. Their friendship was a habit and nothing more.

* * *

_Dear Lucius,_

_I miss you tonight. Severus would want me to tell you that I've been tired and dizzy, but please don't worry. Everyone takes care of me._

_Love,_

_Felicity_

_-_

_Darling Felicity,_

_Of course I'll worry, but I'll take it as an improvement that you're talking to me about it. I miss you deeply, love, but it's already Thursday._

_Soon,_

_Lucius_

* * *

Felicity was beginning to understand that there was something enormous inside of herself that was not at all usual. Other people didn't wake up with pressure building under their sternums, growing so great throughout the day that it made them lightheaded. Other people could use magic precisely, in small movements that created small results. A hem repaired. A flow of water into a cup, stopping below the rim. Felicity was barely passing her classes because every wave she chanced to make rippled through an entire room.

"Let's duel," she said to Lucius when she got home that Saturday. "It's still light enough to go into the garden."

"Duel?" He had met her on the hearth, and the announcement had come as he still had his arms around her. She had never requested such a thing before; he did not even know if she had ever dueled before at all.

"Just harmless jinxes. Body-bind, disarming, jelly legs."

"Well, you're obviously eager for it. Should I go get my gloves?"

"No," she replied, and then thought a minute. "Actually, a bit of protection probably wouldn't hurt either of us."

Lucius had a dusty old collection of dueling equipment in an unused guest room, and soon they were both dressed for the occasion.

"Last chance to warn me if you're planning on murdering me," he joked as he held the terrace door for her.

"No such thing," she soothed back. "I'm just…I feel cooped up."

Technically it wasn't standard practice to duel without seconds, but nothing at Malfoy Manor was ever up to standards. They trusted one another, and things went easily, a steady back and forth. But then there was one quick moment when Felicity could see that Lucius was distracted, and she couldn't be a good wife any longer.

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted across the lawn, and Lucius was knocked down, the snake head of his wand caught neatly in her hand.

"You win," he gasped out, sitting up. "I thought this was going to be gentle sport."

"You aren't hurt are you?" Felicity hurried to his side.

"Just my pride." He took her hand as if he would get up, but pulled her down to his side instead. "Did that feel good?"

"I'm exhausted," she replied. "But in a much purer way than I have been in a long time."


End file.
